


House Rainbow

by Bearixt



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, I promise, Mystery, Steve Rogers-centric, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, because aint nobody got time for that, but it's not gonna be the focus, can be read as pre-slash stony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearixt/pseuds/Bearixt
Summary: Steve woke up and found himself in a gigantic house with different-colored rooms and rainbow hallways. Without any exits nor any memories of who he is, he has to spend his days living together with six other people and their different... interests.-“At that point, we realized two things. First, new people will be appearing in the pink room after exactly a week, and second, Jan should never cook.” Natasha rubbed her temple.“I can’t help it! I mean, sometimes I really do it on purpose! Okay, sorry, sorry, I won’t do it again. But sometimes it just happens,” Jan said with a pout.“And that is?” Steve asked.“To burn the entire kitchen down,” Bruce answered.“Slander! That only happened once!”“One happened before I arrived, correct? I was here when I heard an explosion two days ago, wasn’t that you?”Tony laughed sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, that one was me.”-Or the Maze Runner AU (but not really).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my nanowrimo work last year that I never opened again after typing that final period, which means that this 50k-word story is complete but it's a rough draft. A really, really, rough draft. It's a mess and it sometimes makes me cringe, but who knows? Maybe someone will read this entire thing. It feels like a waste if I just let it rot in my files ~~like I often do~~. Will update as I edit it... for the first time...
> 
> Hope someone will like this. Enjoy!

“Well, here’s our seventh and last sacrificial lamb, I guess?”

Click. Whirr. Swoosh.

“Hmm.”

“That’s the last frame too, right? Guess this is really the last one.”

“I thought it would be a girl?”

“We can all blame Jan for that. Probably.”

“Huh? Why me?”

“Quiet! He’s waking up.”

Blue eyes opened slowly and saw four pair of eyes staring back at him. Surprised, he sat up immediately and banged heads with a girl with short, brown hair.

“H-Hey!”

He rubbed his forehead and looked around. He was lost. He knew he was. He had no idea who these people are, nor he had any idea where he is. What’s worse, he didn’t even know—

“Chill, man. You’re gonna have a heart attack at this rate.”

“Breathe with me, okay? Inhale, exhale, inhale…”

A ginger head was instructing him how to breathe, but it’s not like he needed that. He knows how to breathe. What he didn’t know and would really like to know right now is—

Somebody cupped both his cheeks. He looked at the girl in front of him with a red mark on her forehead. Ah, the girl he bumped heads with. “Listen up here, man. Fucking. Stop. Panicking. I mean, I totally get the feeling, but seriously.”

He blinked, gained his breathing, and swallowed the lump in his throat. “What…”

Four people was waiting, but he didn’t continue to speak. The silence went on for too long before a guy with glasses spoke. “What, what?”

“What… name…?”

Breathing exercise girl’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course. We haven’t even said who we are. I’m Natasha.”

“I’m Jan! Not the boy version of the name, but the girl kind. J-A-N. I mean, obviously. Right?”

The boy didn’t react and Jan looked obviously put out. The guy with glasses saved them again from the awkward silence. “Not too much of a talker, are you? Or maybe it’s just the first day nerves. It’s Bruce.” He held out his hand and was delighted when the boy grabbed it, albeit hesitantly.

“And that’s Clint with the camera slung on his neck. There are two more here, probably still sleeping or in the kitchen. Do you need anything? Water?” Natasha asked.

The boy shook his head. He furrowed his brows and in a low voice, he said, “I don’t know my name.”

“Holy shit, newcomer is a boy?!”

They didn’t get to react to the guy’s statement before a brunet who looked like he just woke up entered the room and immediately ran towards the group with enthusiasm. “It’s a boy and he has _amnesia!”_

Bruce sighed. “I don’t see what’s so amazing about that.”

Brunet snorted and tapped Bruce shoulder. “Of course, mister memory’s gonna have lotsa problems with that. But, man! Amnesia means starting all over again and all that shit. That’s exciting!” After seeing the boy’s expression, he hastily added almost as an afterthought, “Oh, unless of course it’s temporary, and uh, I guess that sucks for you.”

“Anyway! Hi. Tony. I mean, my name’s Tony, and you don’t have any. That rhymed. But hmm, we should make one up for you, then.” He did a thinking pose. Natasha slapped him lightly in the head.

“Sorry about these guys. I know it can be disorienting for you right now. Trust us, we know that feeling. But you can ask us anything you want to know and we’ll try to help you. It’s better and easier for you if you get comfortable as soon as you can,” Natasha said, voice calm and placating.

“Don’t worry about bumping my head! This is nothing, so don’t feel guilty about it, okay?” Jan grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

Bruce sighed and muttered, though still loud for all of them to hear, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“Poor guy really look confused. Ah, this brings me back to those days,” Jan added.

“Steven? Stephen?” Tony suddenly asked. It made the boy even more confused, but the rest of them appeared to immediately understand the non-sequitur.

Clint, who had been quiet the whole time, faced him with his index and middle finger up in a V. Tony nodded enthusiastically. “Ah, yeah! Totally digging the Steve, too. It’s even pretty close to seven.”

“Steve’s no good! If we’re going with letter S, then Scott is better,” Jan said.

The rest of them started talking amongst themselves on what name the boy should have. The boy himself, finally calming down, sat upright and decided to take the opportunity to look at his surroundings. They were in a massive, plain room. The walls were painted with pink, and covering majority of the floor was a fur-like carpet. That explained why he was feeling quite itchy when he woke up, he guessed. After his surroundings, he decided to look at the people next.

Natasha was long. Perhaps that was a weird way to describe her, but it was what first entered his mind now that he could look at her better. Her fiery, red hair reached up to her waist, and she had supermodel legs. The skinny jeans she was wearing really made her height more obvious. Even though she spoke in a low manner unlike the other two, she radiates a vibe that makes you listen to her.

Jan was rash, and Tony was just full of energy. The boy can’t explain how he got into that conclusion. Tony was very animated and good-looking. And based on how he acts, he knows that. Jan talks loud, and Tony talks fast. There’s a difference there, but they’re both really loud nonetheless.

Bruce was hard to figure. He looked like a typical nerd, but he doesn’t act like one. He stands straight, his movements are with grace. He was like a prince thrown out of palace and sent with the commoners. But, if there is anyone even harder to figure, it definitely had to be Clint. He didn’t talk, but he definitely stares intently at everyone. Once in a while he’ll make a vague head or hand gesture that all of them can understand.

But the most confusing one is himself, the boy thought. Waking up feeling lost made him disoriented, but now that he’s calm… did he just analyze most of them in a few seconds? Also, for some reasons, he knew what a supermodel legs would look like, or how a prince would act, yet he can’t think of any specific examples. It was like waking up in the morning and knowing you had a dream, but the more you try to grasp it, the more it gets farther.

Which is another case in point. He knows what dreaming feels like, yet he doesn’t remember any dreams in particular. He didn’t even remember where he used to sleep, what time did he wake up, nor what are the first things he sees in the morning.

It was disorienting. Confusing. Scary.

But, at the same time, it was quite… exciting.

“How about Nos?”

All of them stopped talking to look at another newcomer by the door. It was a girl (that just came out of the showers, the boy mused) drying her hair with a towel as she regarded them with cool eyes. “As in, many no’s. He looks like a person who keeps saying ‘no’ anyway.”

“Wanda, don’t be rude to the newcomer,” Natasha reprimanded.

The girl at the door—Wanda—just continued drying her hair. “I’m going to cook breakfast now. Jan, Bruce, you’re with me,” she said. She turned her back from them and walked away.

Tony pouted. “She’s still quite stingy, even though we’ve been together for two weeks now!”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s something else.” Natasha sighed. “But you two should go now. We all don’t like it when she’s mad. Now, go. Shoo.”

Jan stretched and crossed her arms. “Well, he better has a name already, which should really be Scott if you ask me, by the time you guys go to the kitchen,” she said. When she noticed that Bruce was already by the door, she rushed after him. “Hey, wait for me!”

The boy was staring at the guy with a camera intently, as if figuring him out. Tony noticed how Clint was squirming under his gaze, so he tried to discreetly point it out to Natasha. Natasha, who was looking at the door, returned to look at them again. Not really knowing what to do with the boy, she whispered to Tony, “Maybe like-minded people can just somehow find each other?”

Louder, she continued, “Clint doesn’t also talk much, but he’s nice.”

The boy ignored her and looked at the wall behind him; stuck to it were seven polaroid pictures placed horizontally. The boy stood up and walked towards it, and upon closer inspection, noted that the pictures were of different ears.

Natasha was beside him in an instant, giving him a small smile. “These are from Clint. He… likes taking pictures of ears with his camera. But after we found the polaroid, we decided to take pictures of everyone’s ears. No particular reason. Just that there were seven films inside it, and we are seven here, including you.”

“How? And where exactly is ‘here’?” the boy asked. Natasha smiled wider, glad that the boy is finally slowly talking.

“Hey, look! You can actually speak. I mean, you did earlier, but I was afraid you only have the five w’s and one h’s in your vocabulary. Great!” Tony cheered. Natasha felt the urge to bang her head on the wall, but decided against it.

“Uh, sorry. I was just really surprised earlier,” the boy said. He looked at Natasha’s ear since she was beside him, and then back to the pictures, trying to figure out which one was hers. He pointed to the first photo. “You?”

Tony butted in before Natasha could reply. “'You', huh? I bet you don’t even remember our names. Can’t really blame you, though. You woke up and there were immediately six of us within the first few minutes. Names and faces are not that easy to remember, too. And you can’t even remember your own. Oh, not that I’m saying that you suck for that or anything, I mean, I don’t really remember lot of things, too. Like my butler. I don’t know if I have a butler. I don’t. Maybe? But the thing is—”

"Tony,” the boy said, pointing at him and effectively cutting him off his rant.

“Natasha.” The girl with red hair.

“Clint.” The camera guy.

“Jan’s the one with short hair, Bruce’s the glasses guy, and Wanda’s the last one,” he finished, ticking off a finger every time he mentioned a name. “I think I got it right?”

Tony looked at him with wide eyes. “Whoah! Do you have a memory thing, too? Ah, but you have amnesia. Weird.”

“Tony!” Natasha elbowed his ribs. “Don’t be insensitive.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m not! I don’t think he’s offended. I mean look at him! He’s—” Tony abruptly stopped, causing Natasha to raise a brow before looking at their latest addition.

With a smile on his face, the boy pointed to himself. “Steve.”

Tony’s smile was so wide that it looked like it hurt. “Ha, I won. Take that, Jan!”

Natasha chuckled. “Tell that to her when she can actually hear it. It’s nice to meet you, Steve. I know you must be confused about a lot of things, but we can talk about that after eating, okay?”

Clint nodded at him and gave a small wave.

“And to answer your earlier question.” Tony walked to the middle of the room with confident strides and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to House Rainbow!”

“You look like an idiot,” Natasha muttered as they started walking out the door. The three of them stopped when they noticed that Steve was still standing, looking confused. “Steve?” she asked.

Steve snapped out of his musings and shook his head. “Sorry, I was just thinking if pink is a color in the rainbow. I’m not sure if my memory’s mixed up, but I don’t think it was?”

“That’s what you are worrying about?” Tony laughed. “You’ll definitely just fit here fine.”

Clint gave them two thumbs up.

“How exactly does one fit in here? Why are we here in the first place?” Steve asked.

Natasha turned around and walked away. “Nope. Eat first, talk later. Come on, Wanda’s cooking is good.”

* * *

The kitchen’s walls were green. It was weird, but at least it’s a color of the rainbow. Unlike the earlier room, the kitchen wasn’t spacious, but it wasn’t really cramped, either. It was small enough that they can hear each other without needing to louden their voice, but big enough for Jan and Tony to mess around.

Steve was seated at the head of the long, rectangular table. Natasha and Bruce were the closest to him, Jan and Tony the farthest. Somehow, he knew he should be thankful.

Ham, bacon, and eggs, as well as pasta were placed in the middle of the table. Everyone was eating peacefully, which bothered Steve a bit because even the rambling Tony was quiet. He just decided to focus on eating as well.

When they were all finished, Wanda coughed. “So, newcomer, tell us about yourself.”

Jan laughed loudly. When Wanda looked at her with questioning eyes, Jan shrugged. “You sound like an ominous villain. Seriously, Wanda.”

Steve certainly doesn’t know her long enough, but he was surprised to see a faint blush across Wanda’s face.

“What was I supposed to say?” she asked.

“For starters, how about asking his name? Although, I told you, looks like he doesn’t remember that,” Jan said.

“Ah, you can call me Steve.”

Jan looked at him, and then at Tony across her who looked smug. “That is unfair! The battle is not counted when the opponent is away!”

Natasha sighed. “What is she even saying?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Bruce said. Clint coughed, obviously trying to hide a laugh.

And there goes the noise that he already became accustomed to, Steve thought. He’s surprised to see Wanda argue with Tony and Jan, too. He thought she was the mature one in the group from his first impression of her, but she just didn’t talk much to strangers, maybe? But on the other hand…

“Are you two the parents of the group?” Steve asked, looking at Natasha and Bruce. Everyone stopped for a moment to look at two before laughing. Natasha did her elegant raised brow again, and Bruce looked mildly uncomfortable. Steve caught Clint’s eyes, who gave him a thumbs up.

“Parents? What parents?” Natasha asked.

“Most groups have them, right? Especially when there are unruly children.”

“Hey!” Jan and Tony shouted.

Steve raised an eyebrow at them. “I didn’t mention anyone.”

“I guess we somehow are,” Bruce said after a deep sigh. “But we aren’t romantically together. I think that’s absurd, seeing as I only know her for a week.”

Steve didn’t pay attention to the others who was still talking about it, noticing something from what Bruce said. “A week?”

“Yep. I was the one that came before you,” Bruce said, as if that was enough to explain everything.

Natasha seemed to sense his confusion. She composed herself and directed another smile at him. “How about we clean up first, and then let’s head to the living room?”

Tony stood up immediately with a big grin. “Last one to stand will wash the dishes!”

Steve, Clint, and Jan immediately stood up. Bruce and Natasha stood up together, causing Jan to hoot again. The two ignored her. Wanda simply looked confused. “What?”

“Looks like you’re on the dishwashing duty this time, Wanda!” Jan said before she picked up her plates and went towards the sink. Natasha grabbed Steve’s plates from him and told him to tend the table instead while the others also brought their plates with them.

He nodded and put a cover on some of the remaining food. It was weird to not know who you are, yet feel comfortable in doing things you don’t have a single recollection of.

Wanda was still seated with furrowed brows and mouth set on a thin line. When she regarded him with her cool eyes, he felt the urge to raise his hand in surrender but decided against it.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Steve asked.

He wasn’t sure if she glared at him or it was just what her normal stare looks like. “Why am I washing the dishes?”

“You were the last one to stand.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 _Oh._ He finally got it. She was probably one of those kids that didn’t get to talk with other kids while growing up. That explained some of her behavior. Or was it too early to think that? Was he being judgmental?

Wanda was still looking at him expectantly though, so he answered, “I’m not really sure either, but Tony said it, so…”

“How come you’re not doing it? You’re the newcomer.”

Steve smiled at him, and she looked taken aback. “I managed to stand up fast, that’s all.”

The others were back from the other side of the room with the sink and was walking towards the next room.

“Hey! Better wash the dishes now so you can continue talking to our new resident hottie over there, Wanda,” Jan joked.

Wanda looked at her, then back at him. If it was uncomfortable the first time, it was way more uncomfortable now as she looked at him from head to toe. “I guess he doesn’t look bad.”

Tony laughed.

“He doesn’t look like Tony,” Wanda continued.

“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?”

Wanda stood up with her plates and went to the sink. Natasha waved at Steve. “In here, and then let’s start the q and a I’m sure you’re dying to have.”

Clint winked.

Steve honestly didn’t know what to make of Clint. The whole not-talking thing made him appear more mysterious, yet he is more animated than most of them. But definitely not more than Tony, who was flailing his arms around while talking to Bruce, who listened attentively and kept on nodding once in a while but never interrupting him, as they walk.

They went out the other door in kitchen that lead to another long hallway. The hallway was wide. It was hard for Steve to distinguish what exactly was the color of the walls. It was a mixture of every color he could remember—sometimes, he can see spots of reds or blues, yet they were never really concrete. It was just like the wall on the hallway they used on their way to the kitchen from the first room. Even though there weren’t anything on the walls or on the floor, it’s hard to consider it ‘plain’ because it was just still full of life. All the floors so far had just been white.

But something was off to Steve. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

After walking for a while, they arrived at the orange-walled living room. There was a big carpet on the middle with multiple bean bags on it. A flat-screen TV was hanged on the wall, and underneath it was a cabinet with different gaming consoles. There were also large vertical speakers at the side that looked like something for a home cinema. There was another cabinet, glass this time, that contained what looked to be DVDs. It looked like a gaming room and a theater room at the same time. The carpet and the bean bags make the room look like it was made for comfort, yet from the orange walls and to the other things inside the room—it was definitely not a room for relaxation, but for excitement.

When Steve was finished looking around, he noticed that everyone was anticipating for his reaction. Some were with raised eyebrows, and some were with grins on their faces.

“Where are the couches?” Steve asked.

Their expressions morphed into varying degrees of exasperation.

Steve was about to open his mouth to say something in his defense (since he felt like he needed to do so) when Wanda finally walked in the living room, catching up to them. They were either slow walkers, or Wanda was a fast dish washer, or Steve had been gaping at the room longer than he thought. Steve hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“I told you. It’s a normal thing to ask first,” Wanda said.

Clint shook his head violently and Jan nodded her head. “Yeah, not normal! You enter this gigantic room of pure happiness and the first thing you guys comment on are the chairs? Seriously?”

“I don’t really remember, but I don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “It just felt like chairs and couches are the things every living room has?”

“Not this one, it would seem,” Wanda said. She walked to the middle and plopped down, grabbing one bean bag to hug.

Everyone then went to the middle and sat, except for Steve. They were seated in a big circle, like everyone knew their respective places. There was a wider space in between Natasha and Bruce, so Steve positioned himself there and sat.

“Why am I in the middle of the parents again?” Steve asked.

Jan let out a loud laugh. Tony was grinning when he said, “You’re really something else, aren’t you?”

Natasha coughed first before replying. “I was the first one, and he was the latest before you. It’s a coincidence. We just like order here.”

“Yes, and speaking of, we should now probably explain to you what is this entire thing about,” Bruce said.

Steve sat up straighter. Natasha gave him another one of her usual smiles. “First of all, can you tell us what you remember?” she asked.

Steve closed his eyes and attempted to dig deeper in his memories. All he came up with was still the same, vague thoughts. He thought he can see something glowing, but the harder he tried to focus on it, the farther the memory—was it a memory?—flies. He opened his eyes and sighed.

“Sorry, I can’t really remember anything specific. It is all vague. It is like, I know living rooms normally have couches, yet I can’t really conjure a picture of a certain living room that I know. Sorry, it’s hard to explain,” Steve said apologetically.

“Oh, no, don’t be sorry!” Jan said, bringing her arms out and shaking them in a don’t expression. “Yeah, we can totally understand.” Beside her, Clint nodded with a sad expression.

“Same situation with everyone here. Although when we woke up, we know our names. Or at least, these words that just stuck with us? Not really sure if they’re our names though,” Tony said. “I mean, they sound like names, but who knows.”

“That is why there’s no need to feel sorry about that. It will feel disorienting at times, but if you need anything, just tell us. You don’t need to feel alone,” Natasha said.

“Because you are not,” Bruce added. He frowned before continuing, “Although you didn’t have any name that stuck with you when you woke up, did you?”

Steve shook his head.

“He didn’t have a name?” Wanda asked. “I thought that was Jan and Tony fooling around, as always.”

“Oy!” “Hey!”

Wanda narrowed her eyes. “That’s suspicious, seventh.”

“Wanda!”

Tony, who was sitting close to Wanda, reached out and poked her cheek. “Don’t bully our new guy, W. I think he got a memory thing like Bruce!”

“Oh?” Bruce raised a brow. He looked at Steve. “What is yours?”

Steve blinked at him. “I’m confused, sorry.”

“Of course you are. Sorry about them,” Natasha said, looking pointedly at everyone in the room except Steve. “Okay, let’s start first by introducing ourselves.”

“You guys already did though?” Steve asked.

“You guys already did?” Wanda asked.

Steve answered her. “They did, when I woke up. They also told me that your name is Wanda.”

“And you remembered all our names?” she asked.

Steve nodded.

“Memory thing then,” Wanda muttered.

Steve is honestly just goddamned confused.

“Guys, seriously. Look at him. He looks like a lost and irritated puppy, so everyone, hush. And Steve, this time, the full and proper introductions.” Natasha took a deep breath. “I was the first one to arrive here. Like you, I had no concrete memory of anything, but there was an urge that I had. It was confusing, but it was a really strong urge. I just wanted to jump.”

Natasha smiled at him, but unlike her previous ones, this one was not pleasant to look at. “I wanted to jump off a high place—off a high building, a plane. Anything that will make me feel that adrenaline. I can’t remember when or where I did those, but I knew I did. I needed that rush.”

Clint, the one sitting on the other side of Natasha, shuffled closer to her and touched her leg in a comforting gesture. Natasha nodded at him and continued.

“The first thing I did was check the building for windows or exits. And guess what?”

It then clicked what Steve thought was missing from the colorful walls he saw so far. “There were none.”

“Why does that sound like a book or something?” Tony asked.

Steve and Bruce looked at him with raised brows. Sensing each other’s similar move, they looked at each other for a second before turning their attention back to Natasha. Nobody paid attention to Tony, but he wasn’t really expecting any reply.

“There wasn’t any way out. I was in this gigantic place alone. It was quite scary, to be honest. But the colorful walls were soothing. Everything I needed was here. I don’t know how food magically appears in our fridge, but I’m not really one to complain. There are no calendars in here, but there are clocks. I counted the hours. And after seven days, this guy appeared.” Natasha jabbed her thumb toward Clint.

“But since Clint is a boring guy,” Clint gave Jan an ‘asking for a fight’ face, “let’s skip it to the next week. That’s my entrance!”

“At that point, we realized two things. First, new people will be appearing on the pink room after exactly a week, and second, Jan should never cook.” Natasha rubbed her temple.

“I can’t help it! I mean, sometimes I really do it on purpose! Okay, sorry, sorry, I won’t do it again. But sometimes it just happens,” Jan said with a pout.

“And that is?” Steve asked.

“To burn the entire kitchen down,” Bruce answered.

“Slander! That only happened once!”

“One happened before I arrived, correct? I was here when I heard an explosion two days ago, wasn’t that you?”

Tony laughed sheepishly. “Ah, sorry, that one was me.”

“And how are you two doing that again?” Steve is almost scared to ask.

“I came after Jan. She’s into doing things with a bang, I’m into breaking things. I repair them later on though, don’t worry,” Tony said.

“Don’t steal my spotlight, Tony!” Jan said. “But it was no one else but I who named the pink room as Birth Room!”

“Why are you so proud of something stupid?” Tony asked.

The two started to argue again. Natasha sighed and rubbed her temples even more. Clint grinned at her before he moved slightly to sit behind her. He softly pried Natasha hands off and replaced them with his own.

“With a bang? Breaking things? Is that supposed to make sense to me?” Steve asked Bruce, deciding that he is the only one capable of answering him properly at that point.

“For reasons I would really prefer not to know, Jan attracts explosions. If we’re lucky, just small fires,” Bruce answered.

Hearing her own name, she stopped fighting with Tony and turned her attention back to the topic at hand. “It’s like Natasha’s urges to jump, but not as strong as that one! Sometimes, when I’m cooking anything, I’d subconsciously reach for wine or more oil, or just make the fire _slightly_ stronger, and then it ends up with a really big fire. But it’s not the same with wanting to play with fire. It’s,” she stopped, furrowed her brows and chewed on her lips.

“Hard to explain,” Natasha continued. She raised her right hand near her lips before moving it out and down towards Clint. He removed his hands and gave her a thumbs up before he crawled back to his original spot. “It’s a normal occurrence here as you can see, Steve.”

Steve nodded. “It feels like it’s engraved to you? To make things explode or something?”

“Yes! Yes!” Jan hummed. “Exactly.”

“Mine doesn’t feel like urges. It just feels like a thing I would do to pass time, and seeing as there isn’t really much to do in here, majority of the time here is just the ‘passing time’, it becomes something I do often. Not that I know what are other things that we could be doing if we’re not here. Like, I know we have memories of sports like volleyball, but is that truly even a thing? I don’t even remember any players. Is hitting balls even a thing? That sounded weird. But I think that we are—"

Wanda threw at Tony the bean bag she was hugging. Jan laughed. “Bull’s eye!”

“Thanks, Wanda.”

Wanda stared at Natasha. “Why? It wasn’t for you. I was getting impatient since he was rambling again. It was just the easiest solution.”

“Ah, of course.”

Wanda nodded and looked at Steve. The way she looks at Steve, like she could see all his greatest fears, really rattled him. “I do not have these ‘urges’ that they were pertaining to, but when I woke up, I had thoughts of tying knots, as well as the word Wanda, which is the name I am using, as you know. I am very efficient in them.”

“In tying knots.”

“Yes, tying knots. I know different kind of knots.”

“And it’s not just because you used to be a girl scout or something?” Steve asked.

“Is it just me or Steve really says the Real Things here?” Tony asked, and everyone can feel where the capital letters was in his statement.

Wanda was unfazed. “I don’t think so, but we can’t really be sure. Our memories are lacking.”

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Steve said.

“And the latest one, a week before you, would be me,” Bruce said. He turned to face Steve directly and fiddled with his glasses.

“Sugar, concentrated orange juice, citric acid, natural flavors, sodium benzoate, caffeine, sodium citrate, erythorbic acid, gum arabic, calcium disodium EDTA, brominated vegetable oil, and yellow 5.”

“What?”

“Those are the ingredients for Mountain Dew.”

“That is relevant, how?”

Tony laughed loudly again, saying an “I told you!” before Jan shushed him. Clint was covering his mouth but it was obvious from the crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes that he was smiling.

“Like Wanda, I can’t say that mine is an urge. It’s similar to it being a default mode if I was a software,” Bruce said.

“Sorry, it’s still not clear to me?”

Natasha gave a soft chuckle. “What he means is that he tends to remember certain stuff fast. Mostly ingredients of things.”

“Mostly the trivial stuff!” Jan whispered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Stuff we don’t really need to know ever!” Tony added.

Jan and Tony were always arguing, but Steve thought that it will probably be more problematic when the two of them work together.

Bruce rolled his eyes at them in annoyance. “Nobody knows its triviality more than I do, but we can’t really do anything about it now, can we? I don’t really want to hear about it from any of you. All of us in here have interests that doesn’t really make sense.”

Jan and Tony looked at the other direction and huffed.

“Well, that’s about it. Tony and Clint had quite a rocky start a few days after the fourth week, but that was also when we figured out that we possibly had these different… interests,” Natasha said softly. “When Jan arrived and burned the kitchen down, we confirmed our little theory.”

“Are we really not going to let that die?” Jan moaned. “I said I was sorry!”

“How was the kitchen repaired?” Steve asked.

Tony clapped his hands and whistled. “Always asking the real questions. I like this guy. We can keep him. He makes me laugh so much, I can’t breathe.” He lied down on the floor, grabbing a beanie to use as a pillow.

“If you can’t breathe, I don’t think you will be able to still speak like that,” Wanda stated.

Natasha covered her face with her two hands and Steve thought he heard the words ‘dysfunctional’ and ‘kids’. She removed her hands and sighed. “We don’t really know, to be honest. One day it was burned down. The next, it was like nothing ever happened. We just don’t really question things here.”

“To summarize it, we all don’t have concrete memories, yet we all have our different urges or interests. Maybe it was our hobbies that were too strong that even without our memories, we couldn’t completely remove it? And these can range from really plain yet weird ones, like Clint’s, or something that can someday burn this entire house down,” Bruce concluded.

“That will be interesting to see,” Tony quipped.

“I don’t think I knew Clint’s?” Steve asked.

Clint smiled at him. He raised his camera with his left hand and then pointed at his own ear with his right.

Oh, right. Clint’s was actually the first one he knew. Steve almost forgot the polaroid pictures in the first room. And speaking of first room, they mentioned then that he was the last one. It was just his first day.

“What made you think that I’m the last one? Maybe someone will appear next week.”

“There’s that possibility, I guess, but it’s another little theory of ours. There were seven seats in the kitchen, and there were seven bean bags. It is just more likely,” Natasha explained.

“And there are seven colors in a rainbow,” Wanda said in a matter-of-fact tone.

They were all quiet after that. Steve was absorbing all the new information given to him. Everything was absurd. What was the point of bringing them all together, when they are without their memories? And based on the order of appearance so far, wasn’t the seventh one supposed to be a girl? Maybe there was a mistake? He looked above in hopes of getting answers, staring at the little chandelier above.

“Wait,” Steve said. Everyone looked at him, waiting for his reaction to the entire thing. “How come it’s cool here? I don’t see any fans or air conditioners.”

Tony, who sat up when he started to talk, went back to lying down and laughing after that.

“We don’t know! Honestly, this entire thing doesn’t make sense, who the hell gives a damn about air conditioners now?” Jan scratched her head. “Well, we’re done with ours, how about you? So we can get over this orientation phase already and play. I’m getting bored.”

Steve pointed to himself confusedly. “Me?”

“Yeah! Your innate abilities,” Tony said, trying to control his breathing. He didn’t attempt to go back to sitting this time, preferring to lie down sideways on the carpet and looking up at him.

“I,” Steve furrowed his brows in concentration and frustration, “have no idea?”

Wanda glared (looked?) at him. “That is really, really suspicious, Steve.”

“You called me by my name now.”

Wanda blinked and tilted her head to the side. “That, I did.”

Tony laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling, putting his arms open wide. “I love how everything and everyone never makes sense. Never. It’s amazing.”

Natasha looked at Steve with concern. “You don’t have the urge to do anything?”

Steve shook his head.

“How about anything that just feels normal to you?” Bruce asked.

“I’m not really sure.”

Jan shrugged. “Eh, it’s not really a big thing, guys. Maybe he’ll figure it out later, like when he subconsciously start doing something.  Not every one of us found it immediately in the beginning.”

“Hopefully I don’t subconsciously burn the house down,” Steve said wistfully.

“Even you now? Stop attacking me!”

They all laughed. Steve felt more comfortable and strangely relieved, yet something was gnawing at him at the back of his mind. What is his purpose here? What is his interests?

Tony was the first to stand up and stretch. “Maybe his is questioning the best questions. I mean, that can be a thing, right? If Clint’s here by taking pictures of ears, oh that rhymed, didn’t it? Here, ear, hah! What was I saying? Right, questions. Maybe Steve’s about the questions? Or something. I don’t know. I’m taking a bath. I’ll be back here later, Jan! Better be prepared to lose!”

Others also stood up except for Jan, who only crawled near the gaming consoles, and Steve, who didn’t know what to do. He looked at Natasha and caught her eye.

“Feel free to do anything you want, though you probably should roam around first. This is a pretty big house. Sometimes, I think it’s the size of an entire city. It will be bad if you get lost. I can go with you, but I need to make preparations for lunch,” Natasha trailed off. Clint raised his hand and nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, great! Clint can go with you. Be back before lunch time, okay?” Clint nodded. He grabbed Steve’s arms and they went out the hallway. “Have fun!”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve had thought for sure that Natasha was exaggerating about the size of the house, but seeing as they were already walking for about an hour or two, he was starting to have doubts. The tour was not yet over, but maybe a size of a subdivision would be more realistic than an entire city. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever. Steve was getting exhausted just by looking at it.

Doing the tour with Clint made Steve uncomfortable. He was relieved, of course; being with Clint meant that he doesn’t need to keep up with hyperactive ones or feel even more awkward with someone who dislike him. He had looked at the paintings in an art-filled room as long as he wanted, he had tried out every instruments on the music room as terrible as he did, and Clint never complained. In fact, he was encouraging him on every time, giving him his usual thumbs up, a pat on the shoulder, or a really wide smile.

Clint radiates a positive aura, and it was easy to bask in that energy. When they were in the library, it was easy for Steve to grin with him when they pointed out a funny title in one of the thousands of books shelved.

Natasha was caring and she looked like the person who will give you advice whenever you ask for one, but Clint felt like the kind of person you’d go to when you need a confidant who you can vent out your problems, someone who will just simply listen. And it’s not just because he’s a quiet person, but because that was just the way he is.

Steve knew, from his vague memories, that talking and having no one listen to you feels terrible, that having a conversation with someone who looks at you and nods along makes you feel the sincerity of that person. That was why he was grateful when he expressed his opinion on a painting of a laughing angel and Clint was looking at him.

But Clint stares a little too intently. It wasn’t like Wanda and her gaze that makes you feel like your eyes are actual windows and she can see your soul in its entirety. No, Clint’s was different.

It didn’t feel like he’s judging him, but rather, he was deciphering him for some reasons unknown.

They were on an arcade room and Clint was playing pinball. Steve had looked around the area, and while he was interested to play some games that gave him a weird feeling of nostalgia, he wasn’t particularly in the mood at the moment. Since Clint was busy doing something else rather than stare at him, Steve could look at him freely. It’s not like he was being creepy, but he just thought of it as some sort of… payback.

That was when he finally had the chance to stare at the camera slung around his neck. Based on its old appearance, it is probably the kind made before the invention of SD cards. But it made sense since while there were so many things, Steve never saw a computer. But aside from the polaroid camera, how was Clint able to develop his photos? Does he even develop it? There was only one way to find out.

“Hey, Clint, how do you develop your photos?” Steve asked.

Clint didn’t answer.

“Clint?”

He was still busy playing pinball.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Still no response.

Steve walked toward Clint and tapped him on the shoulder. Clint jumped, and the ball fell between the two flaps. A “Game Over” appeared in the screen, but both of them paid it no mind. Clint clutched his shirt in front of his chest and stared at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

Clint did something with his hands and shook his head. Flashing him one of his smiles, he pointed out the door and tilted his head. Steve decided that it meant he was okay and he was asking if they should go.

“Sure.” Steve nodded.

They went out of the room and back into the long hallway. Even as they walk, Clint was looking at him. Steve had the need to say something. “I was calling you earlier, but you were so focused. So you like pinball?”

Both of them stopped walking. Clint looked at him with those intent eyes again, but this time, it was clouded with confusion. His brows were furrowed, index finger and thumb resting on his chin. After a few uneasy seconds, he gave a distinctively “aha!” expression and dropped a fist into his other open palm. Okay, he understood something, but what? Steve didn’t understand anything. Is there something wrong with pinball? Another culture in the house that he wasn’t informed yet?

Steve had to blink twice when Clint did different hand gestures in succession too fast for him to understand. Another thing about being with Clint is that every communication with him is a game of charades. For better or for worse.

“Slow down, Clint,” Steve said.

The flurry of movements stopped. He put his palms together like he was praying, and gave a small smile with one eye closed. It was one of Clint’s way of saying sorry, Steve deduced.

Clint pointed at his own chest, then ears, and then shook his head.

“You… can’t hear?” Steve asked, feeling guilty and incredibly stupid. Of course. Why didn’t he think of that earlier? Clint gave him a small, more subdued smile. It all made sense. That’s one reason for the picture of ears thing. Steve mentally berated himself for thinking that he was a creep when he first saw those back at the pink room. But how was he able to—

Steve froze and promptly forgot what he was thinking because Clint’s face was suddenly too close.

Clint touched his lips, did a ‘talking’ motion with one hand, pointed at his eyes, and then poked his own temple twice. He did this two more times, which Steve was grateful for because he only managed to recover from his surprise after the second one. Human contact surprisingly felt weird.

But… “I don’t understand.”

Clint just nodded patiently and took a step back.

He pointed at himself. “You?”

At his eyes. “See?”

He shook his head and pointed at his eyes again. This time, he mimicked the motion of opening a book and reading—oh. “Read?”

Clint nodded with a big grin back on his face. He touched his lips and did another talking motion with his hand, but this time, also opening and closing his mouth along with his hands.

“You read lips!” Steve exclaimed. “You’re able to converse with us just by reading lips. That’s amazing.”

Clint rubbed his necked sheepishly and raised his shoulders.

“It _is_ amazing. Being able to understand what I’m saying just by looking is not an easy feat, you know. That must’ve taken a lot of time to master.”

Clint shrugged.

Steve frowned. “Is it something you can already do by the moment you arrived here? But…” Steve hummed to himself. “I guess that means you weren’t born deaf?”

Clint just shrugged again and made a shooing motion. The usual silence as they walk that he already became accustomed to was suddenly uncomfortable for Steve. He felt like he said something that he shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t let their tour end with that. It might be weird later at lunch, and really, he just can’t afford any more attention, especially from Natasha or Wanda if they found out he made Clint sad or lose in pinball.

This time, he was the one who stopped walking first. He touched Clint’s arm to get his attention. “I was wondering, that camera needs film, right?” Clint nodded. “How or where did you develop it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a darkroom around… yet?”

The energy seemed to come back to Clint. He made a follow me motion in his hands and walked faster. They were turning left and right every now and then, and Steve wasn’t sure anymore if it was still a “tour” considering that he felt genuinely lost then at the maze of a hallway. Clint was confident on where they were going though, so Steve thought that would be best to just stick with him.

They arrived in front of a room with a red door. Clint was still beaming while Steve was slightly out of breath. He needs to exercise. Is there an exercise room somewhere here? Probably. Everything they need, everything they can think of, is most likely in one of the many rooms here.

Except for computers. Or wi-fi. Or mobile phones. Or anything that they can use to connect to the outside.

If there is even such a thing as ‘outside’. Steve had no idea.

When he recovered, he stood up straight and Clint opened his arms wide. If he can talk, Steve’s pretty sure he’d be saying something like ta-da.

The room was surprisingly small, unlike the others that Steve had seen so far. Some pictures were stuck on the wall, and there was another door at the other side. Steve inspected the pictures.

It was the others, as well as random pictures of different rooms. There was a picture of the pinball machine, too. Steve chuckled when he saw one picture of Jan wearing an apron and a panicked expression as she held a pan full of fire.

“You take good pictures,” Steve said. “I’m not really an expert on these or anything, but I think you captured the essentials. The emotions, the actions.”

There were pictures of Wanda tying a knot while sitting near a fireplace he saw at the library, of Tony sitting in the middle of a room with blue walls and mechanical pieces scattered around him, of Natasha giving a skeptical expression as she did a peace sign while looking at the camera, and even of a blurry Bruce looking to the side, obviously avoiding the camera.

Clint huffed and stood straighter, pleased with the compliment. He pointed at the other door and did a ‘let’s go’ motion in his head. (Steve thought he was getting better at Clint’s gestures.) When Clint opened the door, it was dark.

“This is where you develop them?”

Clint nodded. He flicked a switch, and the room was tinted with red. Steve wasn’t sure if he’s allowed to go inside, but since Clint wasn’t saying anything—rather, gesturing anything, he thought it was okay. He stepped inside and took a look at the pictures hanging on a wire.

An ear of somebody, Jan and Tony playing the gaming console back in the living room, Bruce cooking, Natasha sitting on a couch, another ear, a wall, Wanda sleeping at the kitchen. And another ear. This one, he can recognize as Jan’s because of the short hair.

He was about to check the set of pictures on the next wire when Clint tapped his shoulder. “What is it?”

Clint cupped his ears and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, pointing outside the hallways. Steve couldn’t hear anything, and he said so, but Clint just shook his head and cupped his ear again.

“Steve! Clint! Where the hell are you?”

That was Tony’s voice.

Steve ran towards the hallway and shouted, “Tony! In here! Darkroom!”

Tony appeared at the corner of the hallway. “Oh, there you are. It’s almost lunch so Natasha sent me to fetch you. Honestly, this is one of the many downsides of having this really hella big place. No announcement speakers or something. How can we contact each other easily?” Tony approached him and crossed his arms. “I can probably do something, like a walkie-talkie, if I only have enough materials. I mean, what if Jan burned the kitchen and we were all away? It’s worrying.”

Clint also walked out of the room and locked it behind him. He gave a small wave to Tony.

Wait. “How did you know he was here?” Steve asked him.

“Huh? What?”

“Oh, that question wasn’t for you, Tony.” At Tony’s inquisitive gaze, he continued, “It’s just that I didn’t hear you earlier. Clint was the one who pointed it out to me. I was just wondering how.”

“Ah, nah, don’t worry about that. He probably felt me running on the halls. You know that thing, how your other senses get heightened when you’re missing one, right? Yeah. Or is that not common knowledge? I figured it out. I’m a genius,” Tony said, pretending to be shocked at the last part.

Clint rolled his eyes and made a back and forth motion with his hands. _Let’s get going._ They all walked back to the kitchen. Or at least, Steve thought so, because he was honestly still lost.

“I need a compass,” Steve muttered to himself.

A lot of things made sense with his tour with Clint, but that entire feeling someone running on the hallways?

That was suspicious.

Steve was exasperated that he just thought of that in Wanda’s voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU robbed us the Hawkguy we deserved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6k words for the first chapter, 2k on the previous one, and now I'm back with another 6k. Current draft of the next chapter is actually 2k. How to have consistent chapter length? Or is having this accidental 6-2-6-2 pattern considered consistent?

Under normal circumstances, this is probably the time when a person says that they shouldn’t have said anything. But Steve didn’t even _say_ anything, he just _thought_ of it. If only maybe he didn’t thought so? But to not think of anything is just impossible, especially when all of a sudden you find yourself in the middle of somewhere, where nothing made sense, with people with interests that didn’t made sense, and realizing that you’re a weird variable in this entire thing and _it didn’t made sense._

Suddenly finding himself alone in a room with Wanda, of all people, didn’t make sense either. Why couldn’t it have been Clint again, or Tony? Or even Jan—no, never mind, it didn’t feel like a better choice.

Wanda was sitting on the sofa near the fireplace, reading a book quietly. She wasn’t doing anything, he knew that, but if being with Clint made him feel uncomfortable, this was on another level. Clint was quiet, but at least Steve knew that the ear photographer doesn’t hate him. But this girl, this kid...

He just wanted to peacefully read in the library.

 _The Consequences of Tomorrow_ was an interesting read, a book he found by one of the shelves in the mystery section. The library was intensive and organized from genres and authors. He was absorbed in reading, and when he was starting to feel a little cold, he decided to go near the fireplace. That was when he finally noticed her. She didn’t say anything, so he supposed it was a good thing.

Still, prevention is better than cure. Steve bookmarked the page he was on using a dried rose he saw in one of the cases on a table near the entrance and closed the book. He thought of returning the book in the shelf and then go out, maybe to the arcade room. Honestly, anywhere else would be good.

He stood up from the floor and then froze. There was one problem with that plan.

The reason why Steve was in library in the first place, and not the arcade, was because this was the only place he remembered the way from the kitchen and the living room. If he stepped out and tried his luck in going to the arcade, he will just be swallowed by the ever stretching hallways again, and he might get lost. And he didn’t really want that right now.

He sighed resignedly and was about to just go back to sitting and reading and minding his own business when Wanda spoke up. “Was it not to your liking?”

Steve jumped a bit before glancing at Wanda, who now had a book closed in her lap and was looking at him, with those eyes, again.

“Sorry?”

Wanda frowned. “That book. You are about to return it to the shelf.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, but— “

“So you didn’t like it.”

“No, I— “

“No, you didn’t like it?”

The thing about talking with Wanda, aside from her piercing stare or glare or whatever is it that seemed to be her default mode, is that her tone doesn’t change. It doesn’t sound condescending, or even sarcastic, even if the content feels like it is. If he didn’t know better, Steve would even say it was genuine.

“I meant that as: no, I liked it,” Steve replied anyway. “It was interesting.”

“But you were about to return it to the shelf, and I do not think you are finished with it yet. Are you?” Wanda inquired.

Steve wanted to groan out loud. Reasoning with her was impossible. But he held it in, realizing that if he did, she will just get even madder at him. And honestly? Steve didn’t want any more reasons for Wanda to go all “suspicious” on him.

With the nicest tone he could muster, Steve said, “Yes, I was about to return it to the shelf, but, no, I’m not finished with it. I liked it, and I bookmarked it using one of those bookmarks over there-” he pointed the container “-so I can read it later.” He inwardly cringed the moment the words came out of his mouth. That sounded too passive-aggressive. Definitely not a good thing to do.

“Oh, I see. That’s good. It is one of my favorites. I think the way they have written Zack was very compelling.” Wanda sat up even straighter and looked fond. It surprised Steve, but not as much as it surprised him over the fact that Wanda is apparently conversing with him.

Steve placed the book back to the shelf like his original plan, but instead of walking out and possibly getting lost, he found himself sitting on a chair in front of Wanda. He wondered why he didn’t sit there earlier and made things harder for himself by sitting on the floor. The green chair was comfy. It smelled of flowers, which is weird, because do they frequently change the sheets? They wash clothes?

Steve was still confused, though he agreed with her; Zack was an interesting character. Becoming his favorite, even. He didn’t have anything particular to do, and Wanda was still not picking up her book again, so he supposed he’s not bothering her. She was the one doing the bothering, in fact.

“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but so far, I liked how he’s flawed. He’s nice, but he can be selfish,” Steve said.

Wanda nodded. “What part are you in? I want to say something, but I do not want to spoil anything for you accidentally.”

“The part where Carmelle found out that Zack was not a time-traveler.”

“That means you’re past the part where they met Jhulia?”

Steve chuckled, and then he remembered that he laughed aloud earlier while reading that. Was Wanda already in the library by that time? That was embarrassing.

“I had fun reading that part, too. It was one of my favorites,” Wanda said.

Steve raised an eyebrow at that, because wow. Wanda having fun? How does that even look like? But then he remembered that Wanda might take his raised eyebrow the wrong way so he schooled his face back to a neutral expression, but based on the small frown on Wanda’s face, he didn’t do it fast enough. Thinking fast, he tried to say anything that might distract Wanda before she starts the suspicious thing again

“I think Zack’s really a time-traveler though.” Steve hurriedly said. He didn’t know why he thought that was a good distraction, but it made the frown disappear, so it was good.

Steve blinked. It was small, but that was positively a smile on her face.

“Did you just… spoil me?”

“What?” Wanda asked, face going back to her usual expression.

“Your reaction.”

“What about it?”

“It totally said that, oh, I’m right.”

“Can an expression do that?”

“…You know it’s not literally, right?”

“Of course I do. I have read multiple books in here,” Wanda said defensively.

“You just asked me if an expression can do it.”

“I was just making sure.”

“Sure,” he drawled out.

Wanda’s mouth thinned. “It is confusing to talk to you.”

“You’re really gonna tell me that?” Steve didn’t mean to ask that one aloud, but talking with Wanda was really getting disorienting and he wasn’t able to stop himself. “Ah, shit, sor-“

Wanda’s eyes widened. It was just minimal, but Steve was already so used to her normal, resting face that small changes was obvious.

“You just said a curse,” Wanda said.

Steve wanted to tear his hair out. “How old are you again?”

Wanda sat back and placed the book at the table beside her. She stretched her arms for a bit. Then she regarded him with a raised eyebrow of her own.

“Tony said that questioning things might be your ‘urge’. I was doubtful at first, but now I am slightly getting convinced,” she said. “It would not explain you questioning things that should otherwise be already common sense by now. To answer your question, I do not know. We do not have any concise memory aside from our names. Which you do not even have.”

Steve covered his face with his hand and took deep breaths. Screaming out lout won’t do anything good. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Wanda is already the 6th in his list of people that he doesn’t want to talk with. Sure, he hadn’t really talk with the others before, but he just knew that no one will probably drain him as much as talking with Wanda did.

“Kill me now. I want to die,” Steve muttered.

There was a sound of the chair creaking and footsteps. When he removed his hands and looked up, he saw Wanda standing in front of him.

“What?” he asked tiredly.

“I know how to tie a noose,” Wanda offered.

It took Steve a few seconds before he registered what Wanda was implying. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Did this girl, who was probably, like, twelve or something, seriously told him that? Steve didn’t want to really dislike anyone because they will be together for some time but this kid is—

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I was, as you said, fucking kidding you.”

And as Steve looked at her again, this time obviously closer than before, he can really see the beginning of a smile.

She went back to her chair and picked up her book. She opened it and turned some pages before she stopped. It was when she started reading that Steve realized that she didn’t have a bookmark and she probably was just the type of person to remember the page they were on.

Steve might not have concrete memories, but deep inside his heart, he knew that it has got to be the most frustrating and confusing conversation he had with someone. Nothing made sense.

Since it didn’t seem like Wanda was going to talk with him anymore, thankfully, he just inwardly sighed and stood up to walk toward the door. He doesn’t have any more plans, anything to do to kill the remaining time before dinner, but he wasn’t in the mood anymore to continue reading.

He really lost his mood there. Walking might help him clear his thoughts. Or make it worse, when get lost in the maze-like hallways. He was left with no other choice, so into the hallways, he went.

There were times where he thought that he was near the living room because the hallways was getting familiar, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be just another hallway without the living room near in sight.

Despite the hallways looking like it was just colored by a bunch of random paint splashed on it, it all looked similar. Steve groaned. How was Clint and Tony able to stroll around like it was just a walk in the park earlier? There must be a hint or clue around somewhere.

Steve stopped walking and decided to just carefully observe the walls. It’s not like there would be any point for his wandering. He knocked at different parts, scrutinized every detail, placed his ear on it in attempt to maybe hear something helpful. He did this on both the walls for a few minutes.

He couldn’t find anything interesting. He then decided to check the floors next. He kneeled down and looked at the lower part of the walls that were connected to the floor. When he didn’t see anything interesting or different, he patted the floor. It was just plain cement. He sighed.

Frustrated, he lied down instead. Just as he feared, he just became even more frustrated because yep, he was lost. He sighed again, and then groaned.

“What are you doing?”

Steve looked up and saw an upside-down Bruce standing a few meters away from him. He was carrying a white plastic bag and was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I think Natasha forgot to tell you where your room is, but that doesn’t mean you should sleep on the hallway,” Bruce said.

“I’m not sleeping,” Steve replied.

He then remembered that in just a few hours, he would sleep, and then it would be the next day. But how can they be sure of that? They don’t see the skies, so how do they determine what is night and day? Can they even trust their body clock if they don’t even have concrete memories? The only thing that they can rely on are the clocks around the House. Time is really a social construct, Steve supposed.

Steve sighed and stared at the light coming from one of the many small bulbs on the ceiling. It was hard to say that he missed the sun because he doesn’t really have any solid memories that contains it, but he certainly wanted to bask in its sunlight. Fresh air, too. Might’ve been more helpful than this entire walking thing was.

Steve squinted.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, and then he appeared in his line of vision. “You certainly looked like you were sleeping just now. Seriously, Steve, what are you doing on the floor?”

“I’m lost,” he confessed.

“And you thought lying on the floor is the best solution?”

Steve sat up. “I was looking for some hints that can guide me where is where, but I couldn’t find anything. How do you guys navigate around this place?”

Bruce shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Or you can develop your own techniques in remembering.”

“Techniques like?”

“I think what Jan do is check every room, and go from there. Like, when she’s in the hallway, she would enter the first room she sees and then deduce. Now that I think about it, don’t do that. I don’t know how she didn’t get even more confused with that.”

“That’s not really helpful, Bruce.”

“Or just get a map from Tony.”

“There is a map?” Steve didn’t think of that. That would certainly make things easier.

“There aren’t any, but I’m sure Tony can make one. It fits his interest,” Bruce said. “I need to bring these to the kitchen-” he raised the bag he was holding “-but I can lead you to Tony’s room first.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve stood up and they started to walk.

“No problem. We only have each other so it’s natural to just help each other out,” Bruce replied. And then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “And Natasha will get mad at me if she found out that I left you alone in that hallway.”

“You and Natasha, huh,” Steve thought out loud. When he heard Bruce sigh, he looked at him. “What?”

“It’s just your first day, yet… well, at least you weren’t as bad as Tony and Jan. From what I’ve heard from Natasha, that is.”

“What?” Steve repeated.

Bruce repeated his sigh, too. “There’s nothing between us, you know?”

Steve thought that it was probably really rude to comment anything because they haven’t even known each other for 24 hours, but he was curious. The chemistry between the two was very apparent so it was surprising to hear Bruce say that. He voiced out his opinions to Bruce, who just heaved another sigh before he replied.

“For my side, she was simply the person I’m closest with. If you remember, I told you that I came before you. I’m still quite the new bean in all this. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Natasha is like the mother of the group. It’s easy to get along with her. I’m sure you’ll also realize this later on.”

“And for her side?”

Bruce stopped walking and looked at him. Steve was honestly, _honestly_ , getting tired by all the stares he was getting, no matter what kind they are.

“Your questions are really something else, aren’t they?” he asked. He had a small smile and shook his head. “Anyway, just go straight and you’ll see a room. It will be hard to miss. I need to turn at this hallway.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks again.”

Bruce nodded and walked down the other hallway. Steve continued walking and he was starting to think that maybe Bruce got the wrong hallway (that was so weird to think) because he was already walking for minutes and there wasn’t any room in sight when he heard something.

Chainsaw?

He walked faster. When he saw a blue door, he sprinted, the sound also growing louder. He double checked first if the sound was really coming from that room, and after confirming it, he knocked twice.

“Tony?”

There wasn’t any answer. He knocked again, harder this time, but the chainsaw was probably drowning it out.

“Tony, it’s Steve,” he semi-shouted, pounding on the door. He was about to shout again when the whirring stopped. There was running and shuffling before the door opened to reveal a disheveled Tony.

“Oh! Hi Steve! What’s up?” He raised his hand in greeting. When he realized that he was still holding a ruler, he quickly lowered it and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that, was working on stuff. Did you need anything? Or is it time for dinner?”

He took a few step backwards and leaned back to look at something that Steve couldn’t see at his place by the door. “Nope, not yet dinner. Still an hour to go.” He looked back at him. “So, you need anything?”

Steve hesitantly nodded. “Bruce told me that I can get a map from you?”

“A map of?”

“This place.”

“Oh.” Tony paused, and Steve could almost hear the gears clicking in his mind. “Oh! Shit, that’s brilliant. As expected of Brucey-bear! Come in, come in! But, ah, sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting you. I didn’t have the time to clean up. But let’s be real, I won’t clean it up even if I know you’ll drop by. You ever heard of the term organized mess? Yep, that’s this place right here.”

Steve was barely listening, focused on looking at the things scattered around Tony’s room. Screwdrivers, nails, other small things he couldn’t distinguish. This was probably the place that was in Clint’s pictures. He can totally see Tony sitting in the middle of all the mess and doing something. He continued to walk around the place and look at the different things in the room.

“—sometimes tell me to clean up because I might end up losing things which will suck if they were important ones, but you get me, right? Like, sure, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess that I perfectly understand. There’s a bunch of things on that corner, but I know that it’s the place I should start searching at if I need to find a small ring, for example, which—“

“Where’s the chainsaw?” Steve asked, suddenly remembering it, and then stopped. He just cut Tony of mid-speech. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, not a big deal,” Tony said. “I mean, I know I talk a lot. Something innate in me. Can’t stop that. Won’t stop that. I’m just thankful you let me speak in the first place. Cutting me off is better than not letting me start talking in the first place and all that stuff.”

Steve agreed.

Flashing him a grin, Tony quickly flopped down on the floor. Steve was surprised that he managed to sit on a spot without any of the mess without even looking. “Anyway. Chainsaw? What chainsaw? Oh, and hey, take a seat. Uh, just kick that thing away. But be mindful of the small nails. It’s nasty when you end up sitting on them. Very painful.”

Steve grabbed the foam Tony pointed and threw it on the side, He cleared a small space and sat. “I thought I heard a chainsaw earlier. What were you working on?”

Tony looked thoughtful. “Ah, maybe you mean the driller? I was making holes on this thing earlier.” He reached out to grab a drill and a piece of metal.

“It sounded like a chainsaw.”

“Now that you mention it, I guess it does.” Tony laughed. He turned on the driller, and yes, that was the sound Steve heard earlier.

Steve frowned. “Why does the driller sound like a chainsaw?”

Tony turned off the driller, placed it on the floor beside him, and then laughed again. “We all have our own things here, but yours is really the most interesting.”

“We’re not really sure about mine yet though?”

“No, no,” Tony insisted, “I’m pretty sure it’s really the entire questioning thing. Can you hear the questions you’re asking? ‘Why does the driller sound like a chainsaw?’ Really?” Tony laughed louder, leaning back a bit as he wiped the corner of his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can set a new world record about the number of questions no one ever asked before. Or maybe you already did.”

If somebody said so, Steve will thoroughly deny that he was pouting. He glared at the brunet. “Yeah, keep on laughing,” he muttered.

Steve waited for Tony to stopped laughing, which took longer than usual. Tony controlled his breathing and then released a big huff of breath. He looked straight at Steve, catching him off guard.

Tony’s brown eyes reminded him of coffee beans.

“Okay, sorry, sorry. Wow. That was the most laugh I had in a while. Ever since Jan stopped hanging out in the kitchen, there just wasn’t a lot of things to laugh at in here. I mean, I guess I understand that in this kind of situation, you’d think we should be more serious about things, but eh.” Tony spread his arms. “Better to have fun while we’re at it and all that, don’t you think so?”

Steve didn’t think so. But then again, he hadn’t been here for more than a day. Things were still surreal to him. Maybe reality will kick him in the ass later, and then things will get tough. He didn’t have the heart to tell that to Tony and his hopeful doe eyes though.

“Why Jan again?” Steve asked.

If Tony noticed that Steve didn’t answer the question, he didn’t mention it. “When things explode in her face, it’s really funny. The things you see in old comedy movies? Not that I remember anything specific. But, like, they become covered in ashes and then their hair is all messed up? Yep, it actually happens like that. You really meet all sorts of people in here. It makes me glad somehow.”

There was something about the wistful tone Tony had, and Steve couldn’t put his finger on it. Before he can deeply think about it, Tony continued. “So! Let’s get on the reason you’re here in the first place again. A map! I can’t believe it. A map.”

Steve nodded. “Don’t you guys have one already?”

“Nope. Which really makes me wonder why the hell didn’t we think of that before. Thankful you arrived, you’re really a catalyst with all your questions.”

“How were you guys able to roam around freely then?”

“That, well—I don’t. Don’t really roam around. This place is gigantic, yeah? Unless you’ve been here as long as Natasha, or if you have good memory or sense like Wanda and Bruce, it’s just hard to get used to this place. But surely not impossible, definitely not.”

Somehow, he can imagine Jan being lost in the hallways. Tony, too. But… “How about Clint? He’s the one who gave me the tour.”

Tony tilted his head to the side. “There’s the fact that he’s the second longest in here. Or maybe he took pictures of the entire thing and memorized it from there. I don’t know, really. Different styles and all that. I mostly just go here, the living room, the kitchen, but that means I’m a hundred percent sure of the way when it comes to those. Other times? Like when I picked you guys up from Clint’s picture room?” He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“And a map?”

“Ah, shit, right! Sorry, my attention span is really just. Yeah.“

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re a cool guy, Steve. So cool.”

Before Steve could think of anything to reply to that, and honestly he didn’t know what to do when somebody compliments him so genuinely, Tony had already stood up and walked to a desk on the corner of the room. “So, maps. You more of a traditional or digital person?”

“I’m not really sure?”

“We’ll go digital, then,” Tony replied. “It’s what I do best.”

“And what are you going to do, exactly?” Now that Steve thought about it, he wasn’t sure why Bruce referred him to Tony. If Bruce already memorized the place, wouldn’t it be easier for him to create one himself? Just a simple pen and paper. And yet, Bruce thought that Tony was the one for the job. What was Tony’s special thing again?

“Breaking and repairing! Or decoding and making. Whatever works fine,” Tony said.

Steve froze, worried since Tony could apparently read minds, but also relaxed as quickly as he panicked. He realized that Tony was only answering the question he asked out loud.

“How will you be making a map?”

“Well, if I think of memorizing the entire place, it just won’t do. But if I think of the House as a whole unit that I need to disassemble, then it makes sense.”

Steve groaned internally because no, it didn’t. He decided to keep quiet instead and just watch as Tony started working on the map. At least, Steve thought it was the map, but he couldn’t really be sure because he had no idea what the pieces on the desk are for.

Tony was muttering things every now and then that didn’t sound English to him so he just let him be. He switched his attention to the walls. The sky blue wall was soothing to look at. Once again, there were things that looked like the insides of some gadgets and appliances hanging on the walls, as well as different tools—finally, some things he was actually familiar with.

A clock few meters above the door. The red, digital numbers on the screen read 18:26.

 _Oh,_ Steve thought.

A knock on the open door brought him out of his stupor, and he looked down to see Bruce was standing outside the room.

“You two. It’s time for dinner,” Bruce said.

Steve nodded and stood up. He was walking towards the door when he realized that he could still hear Tony’s mumbling. He looked back, and there Tony was, still absorbed with his work.

“Tony, let’s go?” Steve didn’t mean for that to sound like a question, but he wasn’t sure if Tony can be bothered when he was working so seriously like that. Tony might look like an easy-going person, but Steve knew from a distant memory that people like him, when they are serious, they are really damn serious.

When Tony just absent-mindedly murmured something, Steve decided that he shouldn’t push it. Bruce looked at him quizzically for a moment before turning back to Tony.

“Tony,” Bruce called out.

Tony didn’t reply.

“It’s time for dinner.”

Still busy working.

“Tony.”

Nothing.

Steve just had a weird sense of déjà vu.

Bruce sighed. “Natasha will get mad when anyone of us skips eating, you know.”

To Steve, it looked like uttering Natasha’s name flipped an invisible switch in Tony. He saw his hands stop working as he blinked numerous times, and suddenly he was already at the door before Bruce even finished his sentence.

“Nope, not skipping, certainly not. Let’s go! Natasha is waiting. Why are we still just standing here? Come, let’s go, shoo, shoo,” Tony said, pushing the two away before he closed the door and they started walking.

“Can you tell me more about the things you do here that I should remember? What time do you guys normally wake up or eat?” Steve asked.

“Waking and sleeping is any time you want. We have different sleeping schedules,” Bruce said.

“Sleep is for the weak!” Tony exclaimed, but Bruce paid him no mind as he continued talking.

“Some try to get full eight hours of sleep; some don’t sleep at all until either Natasha gets mad at them or they pass out from exhaustion.” Bruce gave Tony a meaningful look. “So it all depends on the person. But Natasha is pretty strict on making sure we all eat together, so adjust your schedule on that.”

“Schedule, he says.” Tony snorted. “Seriously? Don’t listen to him, Steve-o. Don’t schedule, improvise! Every day is a surprise! It rhymes so it must be true.”

“You don’t schedule that’s why you don’t have a sense of time,” Bruce said, rolling his eyes.

“Why sleep when I can work on things?”

Steve was puzzled. “That didn’t really made sense.”

Tony turned at him and gasped dramatically. “I thought you were on my side!”

“What?”

Bruce grabbed Tony’s shoulders from behind and lightly pushed him in front of him, muttering something that sounded like ‘stop bothering Steve.’ He turned his gaze back at him, and Steve subconsciously tried to figure out the color of his eyes but he couldn’t see it properly because the hallway had really bright lights and it reflected on his glasses.

Maybe his thing is for eye color or something too. Steve still time to figure out what really was his.

“Breakfast depends on who is cooking, but it’s always safe to be at the kitchen by 7. Lunch is at 12, dinner is at 6:30,” Bruce said.

Steve nodded. He looked down at their wrists first and confirmed his earlier speculation. “There are no wristwatches?”

Tony looked back at him. “Yeah! I was working on that. Like, a week ago. Hard. Annoying. I’m missing some pieces.”

“Are you a mechanic?”

“Sorta, I guess.”

“How do you know the time?”

“You get used to it,” Bruce replied.

Tony nodded in the affirmative. “I know it really sucks to have that as an explanation. I had that whole ‘you get used to it’ spiel from Natasha a lot and it frustrated me to no end. But you really do get used to it. So don’t worry about it a lot, kid.”

Steve raised a brow. “Kid? I’m pretty sure you’re not that older than I am, _if_ you are even older.”

Tony opened his mouth to answer but Bruce beat him to it. “The living room has a clock, as well as our rooms. Only some of the rooms doesn’t.”

“Yep,” Tony said, popping the ‘p’, “Like the arcade room. Pretty sure the explanation for that is so we can play to our heart’s content without worrying about this vague thing that for some reason still manages to control us. Time. Time sucks.”

Steve completely understood him. He sighed and glanced above, frustration gnawing at the back of his mind.

He squinted. “The lights are really bright, aren’t they?”

“Asking the best questions yet again, Steve my man!” Tony exclaimed. Patting him on the shoulder, he continued, “No shit, Sherlock. Wait, was that line from a movie? I can’t remember.”

Bruce pushed him forward a little more. Tony did an exaggerated groan before looking at Steve and winked. People should stop winking at him.

There was no time to think about the House occupants and their winking though because they already arrived in the kitchen. Everyone was seated at the table, minus Natasha who was by the stove. She looked at them when they arrived and smiled.

“Hey. How was your first day so far?” Natasha asked. “Bruce, can you help me here?”

Bruce nodded as the two took their seat.

Steve thought back about it. He didn’t have any expectations, definitely, but everything was disorienting. The confusion was probably normal. In the end, he settled on an answer that he knew was the truth. “It was eventful, I guess.”

Natasha chuckled as she placed the big bowl in the middle of the table. Steve frowned as he looked at it. The soup looked good, but he had no idea what it is. The memory gap thing again?

A hand was waved in front of him. He snapped out of it and looked at the owner of the hand, Jan, whose chin was propped on a closed fist.  “Something the matter?”

“Oh, no, it looked good, I wasn’t, I was just—“

“Calm down, Steve. I wasn’t accusing you or anything.” She frowned. “Or did I sounded like that? Ooops. But I’m just curious. You were so focused on it.”

“I I was just wondering why it didn’t look familiar to me.”

Bruce and Natasha sat on their respective chairs after setting the table. Natasha regarded him with a soft smile. “Maybe you’re just not familiar with Russian food. This is Schi.”

Steve mouthed an ‘oh’ and nodded.

“Well then, let’s eat!”

The soup wasn’t familiar at all, but it tasted nice. Unique, but nice. The meat and cabbage combination was nice. Maybe he never had the chance to try Russian food before. That explained some things, but also brought more questions. Is Natasha Russian? Where is Russia again, exactly? But then again, Steve can vaguely remember how to prepare a takoyaki, and he was sure he’s not Japanese. Or is he?

Now that he thought about it, he had no idea how he looked like, so he asked it aloud.

They stopped eating and looked at him with various expressions, ranging from mild surprise to pure amusement that came with intense laughter and then a cough.

Clint rushed to the other side of the table and slapped the turning-blue Tony at the back a few times. Wanda stopped midway from eating a piece of meat with her chopsticks for a few seconds, looking at him carefully, before she continued to eat.

Tony drank an entire glass of water as Jan muttered, “I forgot that was a thing.”

Bruce shook his head but Steve could see a smile in his face before he continued to eat as well. Clint went back to his seat after Tony gave him an OK.

“Isn’t it normal to ask that?” Steve asked, perplexed by their reactions.

Jan snickered. “Yeah, don’t worry. We all wondered about it, too.”

“But not at the first day, where we were busy either having a breakdown or figuring out our surroundings first before ourselves,” Wanda added.

“Ever heard of individuality?”

Wanda nodded. “I am aware. I merely told the truth. Was there anything wrong with that?”

The table moved and Jan glared at Tony, who gave a small shake of his head. Whatever Tony did, Steve was thankful because it made Jan back down a bit. She looked like she was about to stand up and grab Wanda across the table.

Bruce finished his soup. After patting his face with a napkin, he leaned closer to Steve.

“Fight and tension are always bound to happen. It’s normal since we are all technically strangers. It’s never too serious though. You’ve seen Tony and Jan,” he said lowly.

They finished eating and stood up to clear the table.

“Steve, can you help me out with the dishes? And then I’ll show you to your room after,” Natasha said.

“Sure.”

Jan stretched her arms and yawned. “Bye guys, good night!”

Bruce nodded at them while Clint waved his two hands, and the three went out the room. Wanda was already gone.

“Gotta get back to working,” Tony exclaimed. “Hey, Steve! I’ll bring them later to you!”

“No, you won’t,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “He needs to rest. And you need to sleep.”

“Ugh.” Tony huffed but nodded nonetheless. “’Kay. Whatever. Don’t worry, Steve! First thing in the morning!” Then he ran.

“What is he working on?” Natasha asked as they both went to the sink. Natasha was the one washing the dishes, handing them after to Steve, who dried them with a towel before putting them on the container.

“A map.”

Natasha hummed. “That should be a great help.”

“But Clint was really helpful!” Steve didn’t know why he was defensive, but Natasha’s tone made him feel like he should say sorry for thinking of making a map.

“No, no, don’t worry too much. It’s not like I was really expecting you to know the place immediately after the tour,” Natasha said. “It was just to make you at least familiar here, so you don’t feel completely in the dark.”

“Thank you.”

They continued to work in silence. After the last glass, Natasha sighed. “Finally done for the day. Let’s go to your room now so you can sleep.”

Steve wasn’t sure, but he thought that their way was back to the first room he was in, but instead of going left on one corner, they took right. They reached a dead end and stood outside the room with a red-colored door. It wasn’t like the Darkroom’s which was more like wine; this one was closer to ruby. Steve thought it was a good color.

“That way is the Birth Room, the place you were in when you woke up,” Natasha said, pointing the other way with her index finger and confirming his thoughts.

“How did you decide which rooms are for whom?”

“First come, first serve?” Natasha shrugged. “May be unfair, but we weren’t really sure that there would be rooms for all of us. We didn’t have our seven theory immediately. It was only after Tony arrived, after going around the entire place, when we found out that there were seven bedrooms.”

“It’s not a problem for me. I was just wondering.”

“That appears to be what you do a lot,” Natasha mused.

She opened the room and took a quick glance inside. “Okay, it looks normal. We only cleaned this once before, so you might need to dust a bit.”

Steve nodded and stepped inside the room. “Thank you, Natasha.”

“No problem. Good night.” She smiled at him and walked away. Steve closed the door and observed his room.

It looked… normal, just like Natasha said. Similar to Tony’s, but minus all the mess and with a different wall color. There was another door, a bed too big for one person, a desk and chair, and a cabinet containing some clothing.

He checked out the door and as he expected, it was the shower room. Normal-sized with beige walls. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste by the sink. Steve thought he should use it, but now that he was alone, he realized how exhausted he was. No mood and energy left to brush his teeth.

The bed was soft and too comfortable. He closed his eyes and felt the drowsiness slowly consume him. Just before he fully blacked out, the dinner earlier suddenly flashed in his mind. He didn’t get an answer to his question, did he?

The shower room didn’t even have a mirror.

And then, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will make Tony happy in all universe as much as I can because that is how it should be.
> 
> Three things for chapter three: 1) This work is finished but I realized just now that I subconsciously made Tony like to rhyme words. 2) Don't we all had enough of this kind of chapter ending? 3) The book that Wanda and Steve were talking about actually exists and it’s rotting in my files. As usual.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing may be a pain in the ass, but editing is really on another level. Still not beta'd, and probably never will be. :thinking:

Steve woke up with a start.

He just had a dream. He knew he did. But just like his memories, the harder he tried to reach it, the farther it flew away. There was… a light blue glow. But other than that, nothing.

He sat up and look around his room. It still looked like how it did before he slept; there was no light coming from the moon at night, no morning sunshine to start the day.

To bask in sunlight and fresh air, to think that it would be a good day ahead—it would be great, but he had no idea if it was really even a day. The only thing dictating him is the digital clock hanging on the wall.

Five o’clock. Still two more hours before breakfast.

He stood up and went to shower, and just like he thought, there was no mirror around. There were no towels either, so he went back out to grab one.

The cabinet had door-like openings on the upper part, and drawers on the lower part. It was only the upper part containing clothes he checked yesterday, so he pulled one of the drawers and found pillow covers and blankets.

There was an air conditioner on the wall near the bed, as well as an electric fan on the other corner. He grabbed a blanket and threw it on the bed. Pulled open the second drawer, and there was the towel. He picked one and threw it over his shoulder. Just to satisfy his curiosity, he opened the third and lowest drawer.

More sheets of different colors.

He closed it, opened the drawer for clothes, and randomly picked clothing. Based from everyone’s clothes yesterday, it’s more about comfy than anything else—they had no one to impress. Besides, if they will be living together under the same roof for an undefined period of time, it would be better to know each other without pretenses.

Accept everyone even if they didn’t take a bath. Did he even take a bath before waking up in this place?

Steve shook his head. It was a ridiculous thing to think of.

There isn’t any comb in sight. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping it didn’t look pathetic. Speaking of, he should ask them what he looked like, or at least point him to where he can see his own face. Maybe there’s a room dedicated to mirrors.

With hesitant steps, he made his way to what he hoped to be the kitchen.

It was the living room. Not his target place, but it was close. Steve considered it as an improvement.

He turned around to walk the other way when he bumped into a camera. Jumping back slightly, he looked to Clint who was wearing the same, surprised expression Steve was sure he had.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Steve said.

Clint nodded with a dramatically sad expression. He pointed at himself multiple times. _Me too._

Steve rolled his eyes before giving a small smile. “Good morning. Aren’t you going to the kitchen?”

Clint raised his hand in a universal “wait” gesture and pointed at something inside the room. He ran and opened the glass cabinet underneath the television. Steve couldn’t see what he was doing, but then Clint stood up and turned around to show him a small container. He jogged back to him and pointed his thumb toward the hallway.

“Sure,” Steve said, and together, they walked.

There were little jumps to each of Clint's steps. Steve was unsure why he was in a good mood. Clearing his throat, he tapped him slightly on the shoulder and asked, “What was that thing earlier?”

Clint showed the container to him with a tilt of his head before opening it to reveal a camera film roll.

“What about it? Don’t you have a lot of them?”

Clint blew air to his bangs and thinned his lips. He seemed to be thinking. Then, he sighed and signed at him to wait. Steve was confused, but nodded nonetheless.

Wanda was already at her place in the table when they arrived, reading a book that Steve remembered from yesterday.

“Good morning,” Bruce said when he saw them enter the room. He was the one cooking.

“Good morning,” Steve replied.

The two took their seats. Clint was smiling as he put the film in his camera.

After a while, the rest arrived, except for Tony. Bruce had already served the food and the silence was getting awkward. Not once did Wanda look up from what she was reading until Natasha sighed. “The food will get cold if we wait for Tony, so let’s eat.”

“That idiot’s probably on a tinkering binge again,” Jan said.

Wanda placed the book on her lap, and Clint had placed the camera on the kitchen counter. When he sat, he tapped Natasha and pointed at the camera. Then he made a C using his thumb and index fingers.

Natasha let out a soft ‘oh!’ when Clint pointed at Steve afterward.

“Steve, you were wondering about the film?”

“Yeah. Clint looked so energized.”

“I think he ran out of film yesterday, although I’m not completely sure.”

Wanda nodded. “He did. He went in the library yesterday and did not take a single picture, even if the new guy who he appears to be immediately fond of is there.”

Wait, what? Steve blinked. The new guy was him, right? Clint was there? When, exactly? And Clint… well, Steve guessed he _did_ acted kind of fond of him.

“Ah, well,” Natasha started, “There’s that. He rarely takes pictures of ears now because he feels uncomfortable—”

“Even if we keep on telling him it’s okay,” Jan interrupted.

Natasha raised a brow at her, but continued where she left off. “But he still likes to take pictures of everything.” Steve knew that from one visit to the Darkroom. “His camera doesn’t have unlimited films though. But every Day Two’s, new rolls appear on the cabinet by the television.”

“They just _appear_?” Steve asked, flabbergasted.

“Yeah. It’s creepy,” Jan said.

“We are not sure where they come from nor how do they appear, but every time we need anything, it is just… there,” Wanda said, sounding unsure. It made Steve bothered, too.

“And before you start,” Natasha said at him with an amused tone, “We already tried to just stay awake the entire time and guard the cabinet, see if it will really magically pop up or there are hidden holes somewhere. Nothing appeared for hours, but…”

“We started discussing among ourselves, and on that few second window of time we weren't looking at the cabinet, suddenly, it is there,” Bruce finished, and a somber mood enveloped the group.

They continued eating in silence while Steve looked at Bruce, trying to figure out how that made sense. Deciding that nope, it didn’t, and it would just give him headache if he tried to make it _make sense_ , he sighed. “I don’t even know what to think of that.”

Clint raised two closed hand then opened them in a ‘surprise!’ motion, reminding Steve of clowns in children’s parties where they make a coin appear and disappear. He didn't remember any birthday celebration specifically though, his or others’.

Looking at Clint, Steve thankfully remembered to ask, “Can you take a picture of me?”

Clint’s eyebrows raised so high that it became hidden underneath his bangs. Everyone stopped again and looked at him. Even Wanda was curious. Steve thought he heard Jan mutter a “wow so even he is like that”, but he couldn’t figure out what she meant by that so he ignored it.

“Uh, to know how I look like?” Steve hesitantly said, or explained. He wasn’t even sure why he needed to explain himself.

“Makes sense,” Bruce said. “There are no mirrors around here. Only way you can know your face is after a photograph has been taken.”

A flash. Steve blinked hard and whipped his head to Clint, who lowered his camera and gave him an OK.

“And there goes your picture!” Jan giggled. Steve was taken aback. He didn't know what he looked like yet, but he knew he is bound to look extra stupid in that photo.

“Just give it a few days, Clint will show it to you when it's done,” Natasha said.

Breakfast was a little quiet this time without Tony, but there was still an occasional chat from Jan and Natasha here and there. Without him to make some game to decide on who would be washing the dishes, Steve volunteered. The rest went their different ways.

Except for Wanda, apparently. When Steve was finished, he was surprised to see her still sitting and reading the book. He made his steps light as he walked to the exit, feeling foolish because why was he sneaking around? It was just Wanda. It was just a _kid_.

“Are you going to the library today?”

Steve froze and looked back at Wanda who was still looking at her open book. Judging by the way her eyes is just focused on one spot, Steve decided that she wasn’t reading.

“I’m not really sure yet?” He didn’t intend for that to be a question.

“You should finish the book.”

“Oh.” A beat. “I guess I’ll go later after lunch.”

Wanda nodded. Steve waited for her to say anything again, but when he saw her eyes move, he knew that was the end of the conversation.

Steve just inwardly shrugged and walked out. He was slowly getting used to everyone's weird antics.

He didn’t have any place to go other than the living room—since it was the only place he can remember from the kitchen—if he didn’t want to get lost again.

Nobody was there when he arrived. TV had no signal; just used for the gaming consoles around, then. Remembering the conversation earlier about the magical film roll, he kneeled in front of the cabinet and investigated it—above, at the sides, at the back of the black-painted wooden cabinet, but found nothing different.

He crouched down and placed his hands underneath the cabinet, feeling for anything out of place.

Somebody coughed. “Uh, what are you doing?”

Steve looked back and saw Tony by the door, holding something on his hand. He had bags underneath his eyes, hair stuck in various directions, and one eyebrow raised.

“Nope, never mind, man. I don’t really need to know, don’t really wanna. Just do your thing in peace, no judgments here,” Tony said. He went near and sat in front of him fast, again, without a care in the world, just like how he did the last time.

“I don’t unders—"

“Ta-da!”

Steve stared at the small, mechanical thing that Tony presented to him. It was as big as a size of two palms—something like a tablet, he recalled. It was quite heavy and bulky.

“What is thi—"

“So, you turn on the switch here."

It turned on, and there was… a map. It was small and lacking details, but a map nonetheless. Red digital lines showed the outline of the entire House, and there were small boxes that Steve thought would be the rooms. There were a lot of hallways as there are rooms. Steve tried to make it larger using two fingers that he somehow remembered to be the common gesture for zoom, but nothing happened.

“Ugh, yeah, that’s a problem. It kinda looks like a tablet, yeah? But it’s not. Sadly, not. I just used some parts from the clock in my room and a toaster. I roamed around the house earlier using that so I’m pretty sure it’s accurate. It's too small for me to put labels on each room, though, so you just memorize what each of those small boxes correspond to.”

Tony paused and visibly deflated before he continued. “Sorry, man, that’s the best I can do. Well, not really, but on current circumstances, yeah. It sucks to not have any actual gadgets here, except for game consoles, which I will _absolutely_ not touch or Jan’s gonna kill me, also because I haven’t defeated her yet in Counter Strike. Have you tried that one?”

“Uh, no?” It was hard to follow Tony’s line of thinking sometimes, but Steve didn’t get it. “Why are you saying sorry? Are you kidding me? This is amazing.”

Steve grabbed the map from his hands and turned it around, inspecting the work. “This is just from a toaster and a clock—wait, the clock in your room?”

“Yeah. We should play Counter Strike sometime, let's team up and defeat Jan. She needs to get knocked off her high horse.”

Steve frowned.

“Wait, are you, like, females shouldn’t be treated like that and all that jazz? Don’t worry about it, it’s just a game, and Jan doesn’t really want to be treated like that. I mean a, you know, she.”

That didn’t make sense to Steve. He shook his head. “No, I meant the clock. Clocks are rare here, how would you know the time?”

Tony pfft’ed and waved a hand. “Social-constructed time sucks anyway.”

“But like I said, this is amazing. You’re awesome.”

“Oh, uh, no, not, I’m not—that’s, well, uh.”

It was weird to see the ever smooth and flowing Tony be reduced to a few syllables.

“You’re welcome," Steve said with a chuckle.

Tony nodded and stood up. “Now that's done, I should eat now. Or sleep. Oh, man, Natasha is mad, isn’t she?”

Before Steve could even answer, Tony was already out the door.

If he didn’t know it was a map of the place, Steve would think that the tablet in his hand was just a regular maze because of the amount of red lines. But then again, the house did feel like a big damn maze.

He glanced at the clock above the door. There was still time before lunch, and he could use the map to explore. Maybe plan his days ahead, which rooms to try in what day, to maximize his time.

A part of him was asking, why bother? They might have the rest of their lives to test and explore things out.

He stood up and walked out the hallway, looking at the map before he stopped.

Where was he now in the map, exactly?

He sighed. He didn't want to complain to Tony because he had really been a great help, but having a map was kind of no use when he had no idea which among the many boxes was the living room in the first place.

With a groan, he walked back to the carpet and lied down. He brought the map in front of him, trying to figure it out. There wasn’t a north-south indicator on it, but there wasn't any compass in the House either. Knowing where is north and where is south wouldn't be beneficial anyway. The sun didn’t shine—well, it probably shone, but there were no windows to see it.

Have they tried to make a hole in the wall yet? If Jan could burn the whole kitchen down, why not an entire wall?

Steve added it to his mental to-ask list, which was really growing over time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think we're moving slow, or is it just me? Next chapters would be longer! I think! Hopefully, by the next update, I already have an estimate of how many chapters this story will have. Yay?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number of chapters is finalized! There will be ten chapters, plus an epilogue... which means we're now kinda halfway the story! I know it might not feel like it, but be prepared when the next chapters come out, especially the seventh. Because, you know, seven. ;)
> 
> A small share: this is my first novel-length work, and I never imagined that I could really do it since I've just written short things before, so it's really special to me. Now, I just graduated, and it's like, this fic (along with anyone else who's actually reading this) is a witness as I go from being a student to the unemployed me right now. Hopefully, I already have a job before this fic is complete. Fingers crossed.

“Steve? Steve, wake up. It’s time for lunch.”

Steve groaned and opened his eyes to see Natasha standing over him. When had he fallen asleep?

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Already?”

Natasha smiled. “Yeah. I’m about to go there myself, but I passed by here and saw you lying down. Isn’t it uncomfortable to sleep on the floor? You should’ve just slept in your room.”

“I didn’t mean to sleep here, but it was just fine.” Steve stretched and flinched. “Okay, my back hurts.”

Natasha laughed at him and held out a hand to help him stand up. “There are some comfortable sofas in the Relax Room. You can take a nap there instead next time.”

They started walking to the kitchen and Steve was slowly getting used to this routine. He raised a brow at her. “There’s a Relax Room?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why is it not the living room?”

Natasha shrugged. “We got used to calling it that. Quite hard to suddenly change things now, even if you make us realize things by asking us the so-called Real Questions,” she teased him. Steve just rolled his eyes at her and they exchanged grins.

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” she asked, pointing at his hand. “I noticed you holding on to that when you were sleeping earlier.”

“It’s a map from Tony,” he said, bringing it up and giving it to her. “I was having trouble figuring it out. Guess that’s when I fell asleep.”

Natasha looked at it with a raised brow, but Steve can see the amazement in her body language. “Wow. Tony made this, huh? This will really be a great help for you.”

“Yeah, a great help… if I can figure out first which is which and where I currently am in that.”

“Ah! For starters, this is the kitchen and this is the living room.” Natasha pointed out two boxes by the upper right side of the map. “You should memorize that at least, or mark it down. Wait.”

Natasha tried to zoom it, just like he did earlier. “So it’s not an actual tablet. Is it okay to write on it?”

“That’s a good idea. Do you have any markers?”

“Yes. You can have a mini adventure—find out rooms and complete labelling this map. That’s pretty exciting. Are you going after lunch? I can go with you and get a marker from the Art Room.”

She sounded eager that he almost said yes, but he suddenly remembered the conversation with Wanda earlier. Hanging out with Natasha and being more familiar with the place would be better than going to the library and feeling uncomfortable all the time while reading the book—but the book was good, and he really wanted to continue reading. The way Wanda asked him earlier made him think twice.

“I can’t today. I was thinking of going to the library and finish a book I’ve been reading. Sorry,” he said, feeling bad that he had to turn her down.

“Don’t worry about it. Next time.” She flashed him a small smile and then pointed another box at the map. “This is the library, by the way. Oh, and this is your room.” She pointed the box at the uppermost right corner. “At least memorize those for the meantime. I’ll get you a marker later.”

“Thank you, Natasha.”

“No problem.” She grinned at him, showing her pearly white teeth, and held up a peace sign. It made her look her age, or his estimate of her age based on her looks, at least. She had been so mature and motherly to them that it was easy to mistake her for someone older. But seeing her so carefree and youthful, it reminded Steve that she was probably just sixteen or seventeen. And yet, her eyes were already so guarded.

Steve inwardly frowned. Was she really like that before all this, or was she forced to be older because of the House? She had been alone here for a week— been longer than most of them. Was it because she was strong, or did she needed to be strong in order to last long?

* * *

He didn’t immediately go to the library after lunch. Instead, he went back to the living room and just sat there, wasting time, and wondering why the hell he was so nervous.  Wanda simply stated that he should finish reading the book, and he knew that he really should, so why was it unsettling?

Nothing will happen if he spent the entire afternoon in the living room, staring at nothing in particular, so he readied himself as he walked to the library.

Wanda might get mad at him if he didn’t go. _Actual_ mad at him this time. Their acquaintanceship was still new and fragile, and while it made him uncomfortable, it was something he wanted to keep safe.

Weird.

Steve didn’t know what exactly was he expecting when he arrived in the library (didn’t really even know why he accepted Wanda’s somehow semi-invitation in the first place), but he was sure that it wasn’t this.

“This” being Wanda seated on the floor near where he was sitting the last time, reading a yellow-covered book. It was different from the brown one yesterday and earlier that morning. She looked up at him and nodded once before going back to reading.

With hesitant steps, he walked to the shelf where he left his book. Satisfied that the bookmark was still in place, he grabbed it and turned around to walk to his usual place— _usual?_ He had just been here once.

Shrugging the thought aside, he debated for a second whether it was a good idea to sit near her or not before throwing all caution in the wind and plopping down. Wanda didn’t look up from her book.

Steve couldn’t fully concentrate.

Every once in a while, he’d discreetly glance at Wanda, but she just continued to read like he wasn’t around. He felt a slight irritation at that. How could she still read peacefully like they weren’t strangers who are suddenly forming a book club?

Now he was acting like a child. He sighed and forced himself to continue reading.

Four pages later, he was hooked. It may have been minutes, or it may have been hours— Steve wasn’t really sure— when he finally reached the last page. He closed the book gently and muttered, “Wow.”

“Are you finished?”

Steve flinched. He actually forgot he was in the library, much less that Wanda was with him. He looked up but didn’t see her on where she was earlier. Turning around, he found her by the shelf, browsing through the books on the mystery section.

“Yeah.” Remembering that she was holding a different book earlier, he added. “Are you finished with yours?”

Wanda tried to reach a book at the top shelf but failed. She frowned. “No. I stopped reading it.” She tip-toed and tried to grab the book again to no avail. “I did not like where they were going.”

Steve stood up to walk towards the shelf, but before he could ever step closer to her, she already glared at him. “I did not ask for help,” she said with a snob tone, but it didn’t give its desired effect since she was still struggling for the book.

“I was just going to return this,” he said, bringing up his book. It wasn’t quite the truth. He was already gearing to help her since he’s about a good foot taller than her, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Oh.” Wanda nodded at him and tried to reach for it again. This time, her fingertips touched the book slightly, but it wasn’t enough to grab it out the pile.

She took two steps backwards and stared at the shelf like it was a puzzle to be solved. She looked at him and asked, “Do you think doing a loop would work?”

“Come again?”

Wanda pointed at the book. “I think can get it if I tied a rope and throw it there to grab the book.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

She tilted her head slightly. “It was what cowboys do, is it not?”

“Sure,” Steve replied, skeptical and unsure. “But you won’t get just the book you want? You’ll likely grab the entire row.” If it was even possible, that is. The shelf was full of books; the top row wasn’t missing any so there were no spaces in between them.

“But you will also be getting a new book to read in that row. Or two.”

“I am?”

“Yes,” Wanda said. If Steve was being honest, she sounded smug. She wasn’t smiling, but she gave off that same feeling.

He sighed, but there was a small smile on his lips. He grabbed the two books on the left and right of the one she was reaching for, and raised an eyebrow at her.

“And now there is enough space for someone to try cowboy-ing it, possibly tomorrow, after they grab their rope and tie a cowboy knot.”

It was ridiculous. Steve could’ve easily grabbed it for her and save them both the trouble. But to each his own, he supposed. Maybe she was making excuses so that she can make knots or something.

He inwardly snorted and dismissed the idea aside. She could do knots anytime she wanted to. Now everything just sounded more ridiculous.

“Want to read one of these?” Steve asked, bringing up the two books. “Can’t finish them both today anyway, and you won’t be getting anything before, ehem, someone try to cowboy that book you were reaching for earlier, right?”

Wanda grabbed one of the books from him and turned away to look at the shelf intently. Confused at her antics but already used to it, he was about to go back and sit when she spoke. It was soft and barely heard, but in the quiet library where only the sound of burning wood served as their background music, it was loud enough.

“You know you can bring the books outside the library.”

Wanda has this thing where you have no idea whether she’s asking a question or making a statement.

“You can bring it to your room and read it there, if you have nothing else to do. All these are ours now. At least, that is what I think,” she added.

Without waiting for a response from him, she started walking towards the direction of the door. Almost on auto-pilot, he walked too, just a little bit behind her.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked.

“The kitchen,” she replied with a tone that felt like she was telling him, duh, where else?

Everything was so fast-paced and confusing with Wanda. “Why?”

“Dinner.”

“Wait, already?” He stopped walking and looked around the library for a clock, but found none. Wanda didn’t slow her pace and was already by the door, so he jogged a bit to catch up to her. “How did you know?”

“I was getting hungry.”

Steve was about to reply that it wasn’t a sufficient proof when Natasha suddenly appeared in front of them, causing them both to stop abruptly.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. She looked at him, then at Wanda, then back at him.

“Hi, Natasha,” Steve said. “Where are you going?”

“I was about to get you since it’s almost time for dinner. It’s hard to track the time when you’re in the few rooms without clocks. But it looks like it wasn’t needed.” Her glance at Wanda didn’t escape him, but he decided to not comment on it.

“Let’s go?”

It was quiet for a few minutes, and a thick tension hung in the air. Wanda didn’t seem to be affected by it, but Steve surely was. He wanted to break it, but couldn’t come up with anything that wouldn’t sound fake or obviously-trying-to-dispel-the-weird-atmosphere. Fortunately, Natasha saved him from saying something embarrassing.

“So you like books too, huh?” she asked.

Steve wanted to cringe at the obvious attempt at small talk, but decided against it. He just hummed in confirmation. “I guess? I don’t really remember reading any particular book, but it was easy for me. Guess I somehow, at least, have read a few books before.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “At least one more person will benefit from the library.”

“Tony and Bruce go there, too,” Wanda said.

“Yeah, they do, but I was talking about the fiction books,” Natasha replied, tone sharp. “Those two are often in the manuals or encyclopedias.”

“You didn’t specify.”

Steve can feel the tension growing even thicker so he talked over Wanda before she could continue what she was saying. “Oh! There are manuals in here?”

Natasha looked put out, but she visibly inhaled and exhaled slowly before answering him, “Yes. They’re on the farther side. I think they are behind the fiction ones?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Wanda nod, but Natasha was pointedly looking only at him.

“I’ll check them out next time. Thanks.”

It was different seeing Natasha like that, Steve thought. She looked like nothing could make her mad, except for things like skipping dinner or not sleeping like a certain someone.

If Steve didn’t know better, he’d say that Natasha has some sort of personal grudge against Wanda. But why? Wanda had just been in the House for two weeks if she arrived before Bruce. What could happen in such a short time?

Steve paused. So many things have already happened on _his_ first day. Maybe it was something that happened on her first day, too? But why is Natasha still mad over it? She didn’t seem like the type.

But then again, maybe Steve should stop assuming what their personalities are. Natasha was young. It was normal to feel bitter and be resentful about something.

The rest of the walk was quiet. When they were almost near the kitchen, when Steve saw the door, he suddenly remembered the map and his conversation with Natasha earlier that day.

“Natasha, is the offer still up?”

Natasha looked at him confusedly. “What offer?”

“The adventure tour with the map?”

“Oh!” Natasha smiled. “Of course. When? I have to cook sometimes, so let’s schedule it on a good day.” She stopped to think. “Is tomorrow good?” There was that fast, discreet look at Wanda again that Steve didn’t miss.

“Tomorrow is okay. After lunch?”

“It’s settled.”

She had little skips in her steps, moving to the kitchen first and going straight to the cooking area to help out Jan in serving.

Wanda was quiet, which was normal, but Steve couldn’t stop himself from shuffling his feet. It’s not like he did anything wrong, right? It’s not like Wanda gave him her I’m-not-inviting-you-but-you-should-still-come-nonetheless talk.

Dinner was loud and lively again with both Tony and Jan around. Natasha reprimanded Tony for not going to breakfast or lunch earlier, and when asked why, Tony replied that he was sleeping by lunch time.

Steve joined the conversation every now and then, sometimes casting glances at Wanda. She was acting normal. Quiet at most times, replying sometimes with her usual tone.

It was strange, but Steve thought that the book he placed on his lap felt heavier than normal. Wanda should have been carrying a book, too, but he didn’t see it with her now.

* * *

Steve couldn’t sleep that night, and he knew that it wasn’t because of nerves mostly associated with first days; first day in a new school, a new dorm, or a new house. He slept like a log on his first day. So why was he just not sleepy this time?

He should blame Jan and Tony. After dinner, Tony dragged him to play the game he was talking about. Counter Strike was apparently a multi-player shooting game, and Jan was good at it. Tony had only beat her twice out of the ten games they played, which didn’t really last long.

Unfortunately, Tony’s prediction that Steve would be a natural genius in Counter Strike was untrue. He sucked at it, plain and simple. But it was only for that kind. When Tony had enough of Jan crushing them, they changed games. Steve turned out to be good at Fire Emblem and Final Fantasy Tactics. Apparently, he was good at turned-based strategy games.

They were busy playing that they didn’t notice the time until Natasha walked in the room and yelled at them to sleep because it was already 12 o’clock.

Turning and tossing in his bed wouldn’t really help, so he sat up and decided to just pass time by reading the book he borrowed. After a few minutes, he put it down.

He still couldn’t feel at ease. Probably because of the adrenaline still pumping in his veins from all the laughing, jumping, shouting, and playing they were doing earlier.

He looked up at the clock. _2 in the morning._

Well, he slept early the night before and still slept the morning after until lunch. That should suffice for his sleep for the day.

Or maybe Lady Sleepiness (if that was even a thing) would visit him later and he could sleep again after breakfast.

There was a Relax Room somewhere, right? With the map as his guide, he went out of the room and made his way to the box that he remembered to be the Relax Room.

Hopefully.

It was quiet in the hallways, but even though he knew that it was already the middle of the night where everyone was most likely asleep, it still looked the same. Still the same bright lights, still the same colorful walls.

He arrived at the room with a midnight blue colored door. He opened it slowly and entered.

Surprisingly, the lights in the room were dim. It was a good change of pace, definitely appropriate for a Relax Room.

Just like Natasha mentioned, the room was full of comfy-looking green couches. Small tables were scattered around with lamp shades on it. It reminded Steve of a school library and a movie theater, but minus the books and the big screen.

He was walking around when he noticed that one of the lamps by the corner of the room on the opposite side was open. It was on a place that you couldn’t easily see when you enter the room until you turn around.

There was somebody lounging on one of the couch near it, holding a book on one hand and a teacup on the other. He walked nearer and squinted his eyes, trying to figure out who the person was.

They looked up at him and he stopped.

“Hey, Steve. What’s up?” Jan asked.

“Jan? Why are you still up?” Steve asked in a low voice.

“You don’t need to be quiet, you know? It’s just us, and this place is soundproof anyway.” Jan sat up and placed her cup on the table beside her. “And to answer your question, I can’t sleep. I’m trying to pass time and hopefully feel sleepy by reading this book, like you were about to do, I guess.”

“Sorry for bothering you. Uh, I’ll just go on that other corner.”

Steve was about to turn around when Jan shook her head. “Nah, reading is not really my thing anyway, so it’s fine. You wanna just sit down and chat? Get to know each other and all that jazz.”

He raised an eyebrow in reply but sat on the couch in front of her nonetheless. “Don’t we already know each other? I mean, I know you can beat me in Counter Strike even with your eyes closed.”

“And you will always be one or two steps ahead me, no matter what plan I come up with, in FFT.”

“Point.”

There was a short silence, but it was… comfortable.

“What were you reading?” Steve asked.

“‘Anger Management: Why You Should Have It’ by Dr. Penelophe Labzie,” Jan read off the cover. “Randomly plucked it out of the shelves before I went here. Boring. I knew I should’ve just brought the DS again.”

There was something with the way Jan moved. It was supposed to be contrasting, yet she was somewhere in the middle of elegance and I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-elegance. She was leaning backwards with legs crossed and an arm draped over the couch.

“Do you smoke?” Steve asked just as Jan said, “You were going to read something, too.”

Both of them paused, waiting for the other to continue, but Jan chuckled first after a few seconds.

“Well, well, I didn’t expect you to be a judger, Mister Seventh,” Jan said in an appalled voice, yet her eyes were twinkling with mirth and there was a smile on her face.

Steve was about to ask what, but stopped when he realized what she meant; the short hair, oversized shirt with yellow stripes, shorts, plus the laid-back aura. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to imply anything. I was just wondering.”

“Was just teasing, don’t worry.” Jan uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Why did you ask though?”

“I’m not sure, really. There was just something about the way you were moving earlier that somehow made me think that. Not that I was actively thinking of anything judgmental or something!” Steve hastily added.

But Jan didn’t look offended, so Steve thought that it was okay.

She nodded and crossed her arms. “Yeah, I kinda suspected that got something to do with my affinity with wanting to burn things. Maybe I was used to lighting up cigarettes.”

“There aren’t any in here? I thought this place provides us with everything we need.”

“Maybe it was deemed unnecessary. But even if there are any in here, I still won’t smoke.”

“Why not?”

“You really ask a lot, don’t you?” Jan shrugged. “No windows here, nor a smoking room or something. I feel like it would be rude to smoke in any room where the smell won’t dissipate quickly. We all could be using any of the rooms, and I’d rather not end up causing your deaths with second hand smoking.”

“Ah.”

“But there are liquors in the kitchen, so I guess alcohol is something we all need at some point in our lives. You a minor?”

“I’m not sure. You aren’t?”

“Dunno. We all don’t know any shit about anything. It’s annoying.”

Another few seconds of silence.

“This book’s title is ‘Stars of Something,’ by the way.”

“What is it about?” Jan asked. She lied down on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t really know,” Steve said. “I just picked it up earlier in the library.”

“You like reading, or it’s also just an attempt to pass time and maybe feel sleepy?”

“I think I really like it.”

“Hmmm.”

Jan put her hands under her head. Steve decided to also lie down on the nearest couch, which was just in front of the one she was on. The lights in the Relax Room was similar to those in the hallway, bulbs buried on small circular holes in the ceiling, but minus the extreme brightness. Wasn't there any way to stop making the hallway lights blinding as well?

He still wasn’t sleepy, but it was okay. The room lived up to its name. It was better than tossing and turning in his room and being bothered that he still couldn’t sleep. Now, he was just relaxed, even though there was someone else in the room with him.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that a conversation didn’t feel like a requirement with Jan, even though he assumed that she was a loudmouth at first. Maybe this was another side of her, or maybe it had just really been a long day for the both of them.

Or maybe even more than a day for her, if she hadn’t been sleeping properly for a while now.

Steve realized that he had been analyzing and interpreting a lot of things when he was with the others. And with it came a bigger realization: he had been having solo confrontations with everyone, six out of six. Jan was the last one.

Weird.

“There are board games in here, too,” Jan suddenly said. Steve thought she was already asleep.

“Where are they?”

“Also in the cabinet in the living room. We should play chess sometime.”

A raised eyebrow. “I thought we already both agreed that I’m better at strategy games?”

“On gaming consoles, yeah,” Jan said lightly, “but we still have yet to test that one out in the physical ones.”

Steve shrugged, then remembered that Jan couldn’t see him. “Let’s test it out later, then.”

“It’s a deal.”

Speaking of games. “You mentioned bringing a DS in here earlier.”

“Hmm?” It took her a while before she continued speaking. “Yeah, I often just go here and play. Not really the book type. That’s more Wanda-ish.”

“Tell me if you’re feeling sleepy already,” Steve said playfully, taking a glance at the brunette. Her eyes were opened, and she was still staring above.

“Nuh-uh. Was just thinking.”

There was a movement on his peripheral vision. When he glanced at her again, she was facing him with her head propped on her hand. He mirrored her and raised a brow. “What?”

“There’s really something about you that I can’t put a finger on.”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on me?” Steve said, the words already out of his mouth before he remembered that, _wait,_ they weren’t close enough for Steve to joke like that. Mentally berating himself for not shutting up again, he swallowed. “Uh, sorry, that was—”

Jan’s laughter drowned the apology he was going to say.

“I guess you’re a good-looking guy,” Jan said when she finally stopped laughing. She probably noticed a change in his facial expression because she continued, “Oh, right. You haven’t seen your face yet, right? Don’t worry, it’s quite pretty.”

What was he to react to that?

On one hand, he remembered that he still had not yet seen the photo from Clint. How long would the photo developing take again? And on the other, Jan said _he was_ _pretty._ Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Was it a compliment or an insult somehow? Sarcastic? On the other hand, _Jan said_ he was pretty. Should he blush?

He just had three imaginary hands.

“What? Speechless? Maybe _you_ have a crush on _me_ ,” she said, grinning like a Cheshire cat that Steve vaguely remembered from a children’s book.

“No! I mean, you’re pretty, but—”

“Aww, thanks. We can be the pretty couple together—”

“Please tell me you’re joking. Or this will be really awkward.”

“—But I just don’t really swing that way.”

A pause.

“Or any way, actually,” Jan added.

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“Thank God.”

“That’s seriously your reaction?” Jan laughed and lied down on her back again. “You’re really something.”

Steve followed suit. Looking at the ceilings again, he thought that maybe that was what he was sensing in her before. But it didn’t really matter. Jan wasn’t any different; it’s just that now, he knew she wasn’t into… people? It was called asexual, wasn’t it? Or aromantic?

“Hey, Jan? I have a question.”

“I was sure you do. Shoot.”

“What were you drinking?”

There was a sound of the couch creaking, and after a few seconds, Jan appeared in his line of sight. She looked at him with an incredulous expression before she shook her head.

“I can hear Tony laughing somewhere. Anyway, it’s bourbon.”

“You drink that in a teacup that looks like something from Victorian era?”

Jan shrugged. “I’d take the entire bottle, but Natasha will scold me again.”

“She’s younger than you, isn’t she?” Steve asked, sitting up. Jan walked back to her couch, picked up the book to tuck it in her armpit, before grabbing the fancy-looking teacup. 

“Are you saying I’m old?”

“That’s not what—You know what I mean.”

Jan faced him and pouted. “Aw, you’re already getting used to it. Damn.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“But yeah? I think I’m the oldest here. Can’t really be sure though. Bruce and Tony look like my age,” Jan mused. “I’m at least ninety-nine percent sure that Natasha, Clint, and Wanda—especially Wanda—are younger than me.” Jan looked at him from head to toe and nodded to herself. “You, too.”

“Well, anyway, I better go back to my room. I’m starting feel a little sleepy,” Jan said. “How about you? Not going back yet?”

“I feel like I’ll just end up closing my eyes and not really sleep until it’s morning. I’ll just stay here.” Steve looked around for a clock but found none.

Jan nodded and started to walk towards the door. “You can sleep here if you want. Just because you have a room, doesn’t mean you can’t sleep anywhere else.”

She turned back, winked, and walked backwards. Waving a hand, she said, “I’ll bring the bottle next time. Might help you sleep.”

“I don’t want to end up being an alcoholic like you.”

Jan snorted. “Yeah, right.” She turned around. “Night.”

“Good night.”

When he heard the sound of the door being closed, Steve grabbed the book he brought with him. Making himself comfortable on the couch, he read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not done with it, but here's my [Tumblr](https://bearixt.tumblr.com/)! Ugh, I hate Tumblr for making me spend hours fixing a theme and thinking of a tagging system, even though I know I won't open it much again after.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve wasn’t sure how long he was asleep, but decided that the only way to find out was go to one of the common rooms. He went to the kitchen and was surprised to see that it was just a few minutes before six. Assuming that he and Jan were talking for about an hour or two, that meant he just had around an hour of sleep. He could have more, but he awoke to the feeling of somebody poking his cheek, though found no one around when he opened his eyes. Was the House haunted?

He plopped down on his seat, crossed his arms on the table and laid down his head, facing sideways. He didn’t feel good. He’ll just go back to sleep later.

A mug was suddenly placed in his line of vision. When he looked up, he saw Bruce looking at him with a small smile.

“You look like you needed it,” Bruce said before he went and laid down ingredients on the table. “Hang over? Finally seen the liquor storage?”

Steve sat up, took the mug with his two hands, and sniffed. Just from the scent, he could tell that the coffee was stronger than he liked. “Just really couldn’t sleep.” He took a sip, and yes, the coffee was a little bitter. He knew there was a certain way he used to drink his coffee, but of course, he just couldn’t remember. He’d have to experiment sometime.

Bruce nodded sympathetically. “It’s that time, huh?” He started chopping vegetables.

“Do you need help?”

“Need? Not really, no. But I can use an extra hand. Can you keep an eye on that over there for me? Wait until light brown.”

“Sure,” Steve replied, standing up and bringing his mug with him. He leaned on the wall and looked at the pan. Pork and chicken?

“What are we cooking by the way?” Steve asked.

“Aside from that? Chop Suey.”

“How did you know this recipe? You remembered it from your past?”

“I just saw it on one of the cooking books in the library.”

“Oh! Do you frequent the library, too?”

It was quiet for a moment; only the sound of knife hitting the chopping board could be heard before Bruce spoke. “Not really, only when I need something.”

“Can you memorize recipes as well?”

“Yes, I can.”

“How do you guys figure out who’s going to cook in what day?”

Bruce stopped and looked at him. “Are we doing twenty questions?”

“Sorry,” Steve said sheepishly. “I was just curious—oh shit, they’re brown. What should I do next?”

He heard Bruce mutter an “of course you’re curious” before he pointed him to one of the shelves. “Get the soy sauce and oyster sauce, add it there, stir, add water, let it boil, cover and cook in medium heat for 15 minutes.”

Steve thought that Bruce did sound like he was reciting a chant, but just did as he was told quietly. He was doing pretty okay. “I think I can cook,” he said without thinking.

“Looks like it,” Bruce replied with a soft chuckle. “To answer your earlier question, by the way, we schedule it. Often times, we change it before every Day One’s. For example, Natasha was the Day One breakfast cook for a while, but before you arrived, it became Wanda.”

“Does everyone get to cook?”

“Not really. Clint doesn’t.”

“Why not?”

Bruce sighed. “He suck. Jan also doesn’t, but she helps out sometimes.”

“Because she might burn the house down?”

“Exactly.”

They cooked some more, with Bruce giving commands to Steve and him following it. When they were finally finished, Bruce patted Steve in the back just as Steve placed his now empty mug in the sink. “Good job.”

“Thanks for being proud of me, dad.” Steve joked.

“These are the moments I am glad I actually slept and woke up early. I get to experience golden moments like these,” Tony announced as he walked in the kitchen.

Bruce rolled his eyes as he used a towel to clean his hands. “Since you’re already here, help out in preparing the juice.”

Bruce grabbed the plates and utensils from the cabinet and placed them on the table. Unsure if he should help out since he looked like he could handle it, Steve stayed on his place in the kitchen. Tony jogged over to him to grab a jug on the cabinet over his head. He opened another cabinet with different powdered juices. Tony stared at them with concentration. After a few seconds, he whipped his head to Steve.

“Hey. What flavor?”

“Uh.”

“I’d say it would be best to choose according to season. Like, mango or watermelon for summer. But we don’t know what the real season out there is so we can do our own rules, huh? What would be the best to drink on a morning? Strawberry is kinda nice, I think those are Natasha’s and Wanda’s favorite flavors? But ah, Jan might think I’m just holding a grudge over last night’s game—”

“Can you stop making it a big deal and just grab whatever you can there?” Bruce said from the dining table.

Tony stuck his tongue out. “Boring.” But he grabbed the first one he could reach anyway. From Steve’s place, he saw that it was coconut.

“Get some water for me?” Tony said, pointing to the fridge next to Steve. Steve grabbed a jug and handed it to Tony. “Thanks.”

Steve didn’t notice that the others were already in the room until he saw Clint waving at him with enthusiasm. When Steve raised an eyebrow at him, he replied with a shooting with a camera motion, and then two thumbs up.

Oh! The picture. Steve smiled at him and mouthed a ‘thanks’.

When they were all seated at the table, Bruce was the first one to talk, surprisingly. “We should set a new cooking schedule with Steve soon.”

“He passed your test?” Jan asked.

Bruce shrugged. “He was decent earlier.”

“Nice, though you look like shit. Didn’t get to sleep?”

“Just an hour,” Steve said.

Tony looked at the both of them. “I feel like I’m missing something? But eh, whatever. He can cook with me every Day Four dinners!”

“Or let him choose for himself,” Natasha said to him before turning to face Steve. “You just tell us what days and times do you feel like cooking or helping. There’s a list on the wall next to the door in the living room, just write your name down.”

Steve nodded at her.

“Oh yeah, I saw Clint tell you your picture’s ready,” Jan said in between bites. She received a ‘don’t speak when your mouth’s full’ from Natasha. She rolled her eyes and finished chewing first before continuing, “You’re gonna see your pretty face soon.”

“Not as pretty as yours, though. Never.” Steve grinned at her, and she grinned back.

Tony nodded to himself. “Yep, definitely missing something here. I’m lost. I need a map. Right!” He turned to face Steve. “How was the map?”

“A map?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah, I made him a map of the place.”

“But they don’t even have proper labels,” Natasha replied.

“Oh, shit, I totally forgot about that,” Tony said. He groaned and scratched his head. “I’ll make a new one. You have it with you? Gimme.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You’ve already done a lot. Natasha and I are going to have a small tour later and we’ll just label them properly,” Steve said.

“Why does that sound like an adventure? I want in—or, except maybe not, I still have to fix some gaming consoles,” Tony said, starting from an excited tone and slowly becoming dejected.

Jan put down the glass she was holding and replied, “Yeah. Like my DS.” She gave Steve a wink.

Clint was doing fast hand gestures that Steve couldn’t decipher fast enough again, but Bruce was calmly eating his food while watching him. When he had stopped moving, Bruce nodded to Natasha, to which Natasha replied with a smile and a thumbs up aimed at Clint.

“We’ll drop by the Dark Room later! Not sure what time exactly, but we’re aiming to label the entire map later afternoon,” she said.

Clint smiled and then gave them a two finger salute.

Wanda was about to stand up when he noticed that she had a book on her lap the entire time. It wasn’t the one she wanted to get, but the book beside it that he gave to her. He wanted to ask her if she was still not finished with that one or did she already finish the other book, but it didn’t feel right, so he decided to just go with how he thought Wanda would do it.

“I still haven’t finished reading the book I had either,” he said.

Wanda looked at him before looking at the book in her hands. “It was unexpectedly... okay.”

“Have you cowboy-ed that book you wanted yet?”

Wanda shook her head. “The lasso is done, but I am not yet with this one.”

“And I am with life!” Tony dramatically announced, placing a hand on his heart for emphasis. Jan lightly slapped him on the head with a roll of her eyes, but the smile on her face was fond. There were more laughter and chatter as they cleaned the table. Clint volunteered to wash the dishes this time by raising his hands so high and waving it.

Steve remembered Jan talking about not necessarily needing to sleep in their own room. There were no couches in the library as comfortable as the one in the relax room, but there was a fireplace and the smell of books. It might help him feel sleepy tonight.

He wasn’t sure what Wanda does aside from reading books in the afternoon, he realized. “You don’t just read books in the afternoon, do you?”

“I also sometimes read at night,” Wanda replied. It wasn’t what he was asking, but it was a correct answer and it was his fault by asking a non-specific question like that. Still, better to grab the chance.

“How about tonight?”

“Oh my god,” Tony exclaimed. “Are you asking her out?”

Both Natasha and Jan slapped the back of his head this time.

“Stop making everything sound different,” Natasha said.

“Not everything has to be romantic, ya know?” Jan added. She grabbed Tony and they started to walk toward the exit. Tony was grumbling, but let himself be dragged away. Steve could hear bits of their conversation before they disappeared, and it contained the words ‘platonic’ and ‘siblings’ or something.

“I’ll see you later on lunch and after that, Steve,” Natasha said before nodding at Bruce and together, they also went out the kitchen.

Wanda looked at him and tilted her head. “I hope you are not,” she said.

“Huh?” It took a while for Steve to get it, but after backtracking, he immediately held his hands out in a don’t shoot gesture. “No! You’re like, I don’t know, a younger sister?”

He was half-expecting Wanda to give him that mock raised eyebrow or something equally insulting, but he was surprised to see the corners of her mouth lift slightly. She gave her a small nod before she walked out the room, hugging the book tightly in her chest.

Steve would count that as a smile.

* * *

There was a sound of buttons being pushed. Lots of them, different sizes. The speed of each sets of sound were erratic. Sometimes, it would be multiple sounds in succession—fast ticks, rapid movements. But then sometimes it would become quiet for a second, before the sound, familiar, _it was so familiar, what was it_ would come back.

Tick, tick, tick. One at a time. And then, back to irregular ticks. Every once in a while, there would be a more resolute sound. A button being pushed harder than the rest.

Steve opened his eyes. Or at least, he thought he did. He assumed that he was sleeping and was woken up by the sounds, but even when he thought he opened his eyes, all he could see was black.

Where was he? What was this place?

It felt empty.

The sounds still continued, but now he could hear a new one. It was not as frequent as the buttons, but it was too loud. A metallic sound of something being… clicked? It was all frustratingly familiar to Steve, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew he had heard it before.

He couldn’t feel his body, he didn’t know where he was exactly, he was floating somewhere in a void, but it felt like it didn’t really matter. There was something in him that was saying that it was not as important as figuring out what that sound is, where it came from. And so, he continued to rack his memories, no matter how vague and fleeting they were, and tried to find anything that could help him figure it out.

He thought he found something. It wasn’t concrete, but it seemed important. He concentrated on that memory, trying to grab it before it had the chance to fly away. The tip of his fingertips was slowly reaching for that glow of something. He could sense it, just like how could sense someone behind you, holding something over your head.

He was close. It was so near, _so close,_ he was almost there—

All the sounds stopped.

He couldn’t breathe. It was eerily quiet. He wanted to pace around, yet he couldn’t feel his legs. His entire body felt disconnected. He couldn’t even feel his own heartbeat.

He was simply a consciousness that was awake. A soul without a body. It made him terrified.

The memory he was trying to hold on to was also walking away from him. It wasn’t even running, just going with a slow pace, yet he couldn’t catch up. Not when he was focused on getting his breathing back, but _he didn’t even feel his nose, much less his breath_ , and he didn’t even know if he had his body. No thumping of his heart.

He struggled against nothing. He knew it _was_ nothing—it was empty, it was the void, but it was suffocating all the same. He tried to figure out where the memory was going, he tried to remember what the annoying sounds was like, but it was all slipping away.

Falling, falling, falling. He didn’t even know where he was, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was falling into a deeper abyss.

Somehow, he knew that even this would soon be removed from him. He tried to grab on to the feeling, of this desperate situation he was in, of the familiar sounds. He tried to grasp it, like it was something tangible, and cradled it closer to his heart.

Steve woke up. He glanced at the clock that read 10:56AM. Stretching, he sat up from his place in the Relax Room and decided to kill some more time in the living room before lunch.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he just missed something important, perhaps related to the dream he just had, but he couldn’t remember it. Nothing new there, so he just shrugged it off and went on his day.

* * *

The tour slash adventure with Natasha turned out to be fun. Steve had already been to some of the rooms before on the first tour with Clint, but the excitement was still the same due to the feeling of being in a game. Natasha was up for it. They’d sometimes play guess the room, where Steve mostly lost, because, well, seven weeks versus three days. There was no actual competition there.

Still, it was fun. Steve learned about the other rooms that he missed the last time, like the Board Games room. The amount of games inside the house was really ridiculous: the living room with the play stations, the room for board games, the room for arcades. They were missing some things though. Desktops, laptops, phones, those things.

Some rooms, albeit small, were quite weird. There was a room just surrounded by stained glass. Steve tried to check his reflection there, but he could only see the outline of his figure. It was disorienting so they didn’t stay long.

There was also a walk-in closet room that was a little too big for Steve. Probably the same size of the library, but instead of books, it was shelves full of shoes both for men and women of different sizes and styles, coats, dresses, all kinds of clothing that one could think of hanged on the very long bars on the sides. A big contrast compared to the plain shirts and shorts in each of their personal wardrobes.

It was the place where they spent the longest time in. Steve would like to say it was all Natasha’s fault, but he knew that he could be blamed, too. The coats looked _damn good_. Natasha went to try different shoes, and later on settling for a knee-high boots. It was sleek black, styled with some red that reminded Steve of a spider web, and it looked great with Natasha’s long legs.

“You act like it’s your first time to be in here,” Steve remarked.

“Of course not, silly,” Natasha said as she continued to strut with her boots. “I just didn’t really get the chance to stay long here before. There are a lot of things to do. But it’s nice to go here with someone who can tell you if you look good in a certain clothing or not, since there’s no mirror around here.” She spun twice before placing her hands on her hips. “So? I totally rock in this boots, right?”

Steve chuckled. “Definitely.”

He watched as Natasha walked a bit more before she sat down on one of the plush chairs in the middle of the room and removed the boots. “Haven’t you been here with anyone else before?” he asked.

Natasha wore her usual sandals and looked thoughtful. “I once dragged Bruce here, and he doesn’t really have any fashion sense, so there’s that. Clint… can’t really talk? He gave me a thumbs up and took pictures of me though.” She smiled a bit and leaned back, draping one arm over the chair. “Jan is the complete opposite of Bruce, and I’m a little embarrassed to ask her because her fashion sense is _too_ good. Tony, well, you know. And Wanda…”

Steve waited for her, whether she would continue or change topic. He remembered the atmosphere the last time she fetched him from the library with Wanda.

“I want to dress her up, you know? That might be weird, but she _is_ a cute kid,” Natasha continued, unaware of the many alarms setting off in Steve’s head. Wait, so she wasn’t mad at Wanda? There wasn’t a fight between them or something?

“I’m quite jealous of you, actually. You already got her affection. How did you do that?” She stood up and sighed, then looked at him with a small grin. “Guess I should’ve read something in the library too. But I don’t really like reading.”

“Anyway, let’s go?” she asked, and they both walked out the hallway. “We can do those two first before we go back there, which is the Dark Room.” She pointed to the different rooms on the map, respectively. “Ready to see your face, Steve?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Steve replied distractedly. His mind was still reeling from the revelation and realizations he just had. “Okay, just to be sure? So you like Wanda?”

“Yeah?” Natasha replied with a tilt of head. “I’m not sure if I have a younger sister, or brother, or any siblings for that matter. I’d like to have one as cute as Wanda. But maybe more affectionate and less icy. Oh, this is the Art Room.” She grabbed the map from his hands and labelled it.

Steve was scared for a moment that his totally innocent question would be interpreted in the wrong way again, but then remembered that this was not Tony—this was Natasha. Natasha, who was like a young girl that used to be excited with slumber parties, but had to gather her wits and become the responsible one in the group.

Natasha, who also apparently liked Wanda and even wanted her to be a younger sister. Huh. Were they forming a family of sort in here?

“Maybe it’s time to change House to Home,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Natasha asked.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing.” He took one look at the map and grinned. “One last room before we go to Clint. Race you there?” And then he ran.

“Hey, unfair!” Natasha said as she ran after him. They both laughed.

* * *

Natasha and Steve arrived in the Dark Room, panting heavily, and Clint—who was holding a film—raised a brow at them.

Steve arrived first at the last room, which turned out to be the Gym, but the moment they opened the room to confirm, Natasha had already taken off to the Dark Room. Steve was at the disadvantage since he had to rely on the map and Natasha had the head start, and Natasha had really long strides. Damn those legs.

But Natasha bumped into Bruce in one of the turns, causing her to stumble a bit. It took her a while to regain her footing, and then she had to explain what they were doing to Bruce. Steve had already passed by her then, laughing when Natasha shouted another ‘unfair!’ before saying a quick good bye to Bruce and running after him.

Steve wasn’t a particularly fast runner, so it was quite easy for Natasha to catch up.

“That was totally a tie,” he said when he finally regained his breathing. When he noticed that Clint was still looking at them confusedly, he made a small wave. “Racing.”

Clint nodded as if it made sense, and maybe it really did, who knows? Maybe running around the hallways was a thing. Natasha removed herself from the door frame she was leaning on and huffed. “Here you go, Clint. He’s yours. I’ll take a shower and some rest. Later.”

Natasha walked out and Steve wanted to sit so badly, just realizing that they had been walking for… for how many hours? He looked around for a clock but found none. There were also no chairs in sight. He sighed.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked to its owner, he saw Clint’s brows furrowed.

“Just tired. I want to rest.”

Clint gestured him to the floor, the same way you would direct your guest to sit at a couch, but there were couches involved, just the floor. Steve wasn’t a picky person but, “No, thank you.”

There was another picture on the table that Clint raised to examine.

“Is that me?” Steve asked as he walked toward him by the table on the center of the room.

Clint shook his head and showed him the picture. It was the three of them—him, Tony, and Jan—when they were playing on the living room. They didn’t notice anyone else enter the room, nor did they even hear the sound of the camera shutter. It was obvious on the picture that they were really having fun though.

Steve took a look at the other pictures placed on the table. Some other daily life things. One made him raise an eyebrow though, so he grabbed it and looked closer. It was him and Wanda, sitting on the library and reading.

“How were you even able to take this?” he asked.

Clint just puffed out his chest and tilted his head upwards. He tapped his chest twice and then gave him a wink, as if saying, _of course, it’s because I’m hella good._

Steve rolled his eyes and returned the picture. “Yeah, these are good. Do you do anything else aside from roaming around and taking pictures?” He took a pause. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know. Where’s my picture, by the way?”

Clint clasped his hands tightly and grinned in excitement. He gave a wait gesture before going inside the other room. He turned around and gestured Steve to follow.

When Steve entered, Clint grabbed him, and then they were standing in front of one of the containers with water and a picture. Clint pointed at it. Then he mimicked pinching something, like a small clothing in his two hands and was about to hang it.

“You want me to get it?” Steve asked.

From the pinched fingers, Clint made a thumbs up.

“Why?”

The room was dim, but he could feel more than see that Clint had rolled his eyes. He thumped his own chest three times in succession. For thrill, right.

Steve shrugged and grabbed the two corners of the picture, lifting them slowly. Clint was using the table to make a drum roll with his fingers. When he finally lifted the entire picture, Clint wiggled his fingers.

It was quiet. Clint seemed to be anticipating his reaction.

“You know it’s quite dark in here so I can’t really see it properly?”

Clint looked confused for a second before he had an “aha!” expression. He grabbed Steve’s shoulders and directed him out the dark room. Steve had to squint his eyes at the sudden brightness.

When his eyes finally readjusted, he looked at the picture he was holding in front of him.

The boy was looking wildly at the camera, bright blue eyes widened. An angular jaw, and surprisingly clean cut blond hair framed his face. He looked lanky, small mouth opened lightly.

Huh. “I really do look stupid here.”

Clint shook his head and pointed at his eyes on the picture. He then made his own eyes bigger, using his fingers to help him. He put his hands in front of his mouth and did an exaggerated wow, to which Steve just shrugged.

“I don’t see how it’s special. You know your eyes are blue too, right? It’s almost violet to me, even.”

Clint brushed the comment aside and made a twinkling motion in his hands.

“It’s not that bright,” Steve said. “Anyway, do you still have things to do here or do you want to walk with me back to the living room? Not sure of the time, but I think it’s near dinner.”

He got a nod and a wait gesture from the other, so Steve decided to walk outside and wait as Clint did last checks and arrangements in the room. He looked at the picture again. He did not have any expectations, but the man on the picture didn’t feel like him. He knew it was him, yet it was like there was something off with it.

It would be weird if anyone found him looking intensely at his own picture, though. He stuffed it in his pocket and reserved all the thinking for later.

* * *

Days passed by and Steve easily settled in. They all fell into a strange sense of comfort and familiarity. There wasn’t an exact schedule they follow—there were so many damn rooms, so many options, but every time they hang out together, especially with food involved, it was fun.

One night, Steve went to the living room and found Jan and Wanda watching a movie. He had nothing to do so he sat and quietly joined them. Later, all seven of them was sitting in the carpet, watching as the cartoon superhero saved the world. It was almost midnight when they finished, but Natasha didn’t say anything about it.

It became a Thing. Every other day, they would hold movie nights; it all fell on every Odd Day. They weren’t sure about the days of the week since Natasha could’ve woken up in the House on a Sunday or a Monday, or maybe even a Wednesday. They had decided to just call it Days One to Seven.

Steve and Jan had met in the Relax Room again. Jan brought a bottle of scotch and two glasses, as she promised. Steve thought that deep talks with alcoholic beverage was more on the sand or grass and looking up the night skies, not on the hard floor of a room full of couches and staring at the ceiling.

Maybe these moments were reserved for talking about deep insecurities or past traumas or family problems. They didn’t have any memory of that, though, so they just talked about mundane things or the House. They talked about the day Jan burned the kitchen down, about what they both did during their first days. The conversation even went to conspiracy theories and aliens. Empty bottle later, the two of them had been dancing to an imaginary music.

Steve’s head was aching the morning later, but since nobody reprimanded them, he guessed they weren’t that loud.

“Soundproof room,” Jan said. Did he say that aloud? Steve’s hangover was worse than he thought.

Bruce seemed used to Jan’s midnight drinking, fortunately. When they both arrived in the kitchen, all it took was one look from Bruce, and two mugs of coffee and aspirins were placed on the table.

And speaking of Bruce, Steve had once found him in the Board Games room, looking at the different games displayed on the shelves. When he grabbed one and inspected it, Steve had thought that it was a good time to announce his presence by saying, “It’s better to play those against someone else.”

Steve easily won against him in Splendor. Tony and Jan arrived and they switched to Scrabble, wherein Bruce easily crushed them. How the hell were they supposed to know those words even existed in the dictionary? Apparently, Bruce had memorized majority of it.

And then Wanda entered the room, too, and quietly grabbed the deck of cards in the lower part of the shelf. Suddenly, they were all on the floor, playing poker.

He had been accustomed to the life inside the House that there was no need for the map anymore. It was really slowly becoming a home, Steve thought. Just like a family.

Steve had been scared that something would happen on the next Day One, like someone new arriving, _and how about that, huh?_ Maybe someone new will break the comfort and familiarity they had with each other. But nothing significant happened on that day, and on the next sets of days after that.

But Steve should’ve seen it coming, should’ve expected that it would all crumble someday.

It took forty-nine days after his arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movie nights! House to Home, he says, but... _tun dun dun dun._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update took a while, but adulting and job happened (which was baptism by fire, btw)! Coincidentally, chapter 7 also turned out to be the longest with so many things going on. Extremely painful to edit. I feel like I need to take three more looks at it for the consistency, but I've been editing and trimming it down for almost a week that I'm sick of it, welp. Here it is. I feel like there is still so much to cut and there gotta be a lot more errors, so I'm sorry in advance...
> 
> Thank you so much to those who left comments! I really, really appreciate them a lot. It's nice to know there really are people reading this TT Last few chapters should be easier to edit, so just hang tight!

As he rushed to the kitchen, Steve constructed an apology in his head for sleeping in when he was supposed to be cook every Day One breakfast—and maybe he should include a light jab at Tony for picking a trilogy the night before (which caused them to stay until past midnight in the first place).

When he arrived, there were two things he immediately noticed. One, there was no food on the table, and taking a quick glance at the sink, there were no used pans and utensils either. Everything was untouched.

Second, everyone was standing on one side of the room and lowly talking among themselves. Wanda looked up when he arrived and moved a little as if to give him room to join them. This gained the attention of the rest, and they all also looked at him. Their eyes were serious.

Steve’s heart plummeted to the ground. Was not cooking during the day they were assigned a serious case? That would be too much, right? Sure, no one so far had missed their cooking day as far as Steve knew and—oh, _no_.

It was really serious, wasn’t it?

Steve walked toward them. “Hey, Natasha,” Steve said. “I’m sorry, I woke up late.”

Natasha hummed, but she didn’t look like she was listening. Her brows were furrowed in concentration.

“Natasha?” Steve tried again.

Wanda poked her arm. Natasha blinked once, twice, and another, before she looked at her side and saw Wanda. And then Steve.

“Oh, hi, Steve. Sorry, I didn’t get to cook.”

It was just like Natasha to put the blame on herself. “I was supposed to help, remember? I slept in. It’s my fault, too,” Steve reasoned.

“And that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Tony said, uncharacteristically serious. “We all slept in.”

Steve frowned. “We all slept late, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but I have never woken up later than five before,” Bruce said, lips thinning.

“So do I,” Wanda added.

Steve wanted to say that it wasn’t that much of a big deal, that it wasn’t worth standing and looking all serious for. But somehow, he knew that this was something. Nothing was ever just a coincidence in this house.

Still, it was worth a try to be positive. “We can eat first and discuss it later? I’ll cook.”

Jan shook her head at him. “That’s the _thing_ , as Tony put it, but not the only one.” She cocked her head. “Look at the table.”

Steve did. He frowned. “Who took my chair?” he asked.

Tony let out a huff and rolled his eyes. “As usual.”

“It’s usual to take my chair?”

“He was referring to your questions,” Wanda piped.

Jan glanced at the still confused-looking Natasha before she spoke, “We all just arrived here slightly before you. And even disregarding the fact that it is ‘yours’, there’s still one other factor here.”

She paused and exhaled.

“One chair is missing.”

Steve was confused. “Why did you have to make it sound so ominous?”

This time, Tony didn’t bother to hide his laugh. “What would we do without you, seriously?” He shook his head fondly. “Well yes, Jan, why did you have to make it so ominous! But honestly, we won’t achieve anything by just loitering here. I’m hungry. Yeah, I just realized now that I’m hungry. We probably all are, rushing here and all. You said you were gonna cook, Steve, right? Now go cook!”

“And you’re going to make the cook eat while standing up later?” Bruce asked.

“Uh. Well. I can offer my seat?”

There was a sound of skin being slapped, and everyone turned to see Natasha with her hands on both sides of her face. She shook her head and lowered her hands before smiling at them. “Sorry, Had to hold myself together there. It’s quite confusing to see changes in things I’ve been used to for the past fourteen weeks. But yes, eat first, talk later. We can eat in the living room instead?”

“Good idea,” Bruce said.

They sat while Natasha and Steve cooked. Since they were late on schedule, they decided to just cook a simple breakfast. Steve was preparing a tray, placing the glasses and jug, when Tony spoke.

“Okay, so, the entire chair thing was bothering. But seriously, please don’t tell me I’m the only one who was totally freaked out by the hallways? No? Yes? Seriously? The friggin’ _walls._ ”

It went impossibly quieter. Steve saw Clint bite his lip and Jan cross her arms anxiously.

What was with the walls? Since he was on a rush earlier, he didn’t get to check the walls for whatever since it was quite dim anyway, and he just had to rely on habit and instinct to not bump into anything.

Wait.

The hallway was… dim?

 _Oh,_ Steve thought. _This is not giving me a good feeling._

Natasha placed the bacon and eggs in one tray and all the plates and utensils in another. “Okay, all done. Let’s go?”

They all stood up. Clint and Bruce immediately went to the kitchen area to grab the two trays before Natasha could say anything, to which she gave them a small smile and thanks.

Steve and Bruce were the last ones to exit the kitchen, and that was when Steve finally saw it. The walls were gray. There were no marks nor any hints of the previous colorful paint. Looking up, the previously blinding lights were dimmed and he could see the same gray on the ceiling.

It reminded Steve of a prison cell. And maybe, it really was one. It just lulled them to a false sense of security before showing its true colors—or lack thereof.

They all paused to take a look at the living room. Gone were its usual orange walls, instead replaced with the bleak gray. Now that he thought about it, his room’s walls were likely gray, too. He was too focused on getting in the kitchen in record time.

“Well, at least the lights here are okay, and the kitchen’s still green,” Tony said. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than the others, but Steve didn’t comment on it.

They laid down the trays on the floor and sat around it. The six bean bags were disregarded on the side.

“Okay.” Natasha clasped her hands together after they had finished eating and placed the dishes far from them. “Let’s start with the facts. First, we all somehow woke up late, and since it is a norm for us to be on time, we all rushed there.”

“Only to find that it was missing a chair,” Jan said.

“What’s with you and the chairs?” Tony moaned. “The important thing here is the lights! The walls! The absence of colors!”

“Yes, let’s go with that,” Bruce interrupted. “The kitchen still had its green walls, but the living room doesn’t. How about your rooms? Are they all gray, too?”

They all nodded.

Bruce removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “We should check the other rooms later. What else? How about the lights?”

Wanda raised her hand. “Some of the doors I passed by were open so I saw the insides. Dim lights, gray walls. Those that I have not seen the inside, I am sure are still the same. The doors were gray.”

“So far, kitchen slash dining room is still the most ‘normal’ place. Here is second, simply because of the lights. The rest, we’re not a hundred percent certain yet, but most likely the same. And I’d say we should all check it out, but honestly? I’m getting creepy vibes here so I’d prefer if we all stick together,” Tony said.

Jan stood up and was about to go out the door when Bruce called her. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna check out the other rooms, since it looks like Tony’s too scared to do it himself.”

“Hey!”

“Can you two stop it?” Natasha said, but there was no actual heat in her voice. She also stood up and grabbed one of the trays. Clint immediately went to grab the others. “Jan, don’t go anywhere alone. Wait for us here. We’ll just drop this in the kitchen and then we can we can walk around the house.”

“Just like what you and Steve did when he first received the map?” Wanda asked.

“The map!” Steve exclaimed. “That’s right! We can use that to mark the rooms we saw and if it had any changes or something?”

Natasha nodded. “Good idea. It’s in your room, right? We’ll go there first later then.”

The two left. Tony sighed. “Just to let you know, I’m totally gonna blame that movie. It’s all because of that. It’s probably cursed. Oh my god, what if a woman crawls out of our television?” Tony had his back to the television, and after he said that, he immediately scooted toward the person farthest to the television, who was Steve.

Steve decided to poke him, and Tony flew a few feet. “Don’t do that! Man! My heart is fragile!” he said, clutching at his heart.

Steve almost felt sorry for him, but then he heard Wanda try to hide her laugh with a cough. Tony seemed to notice it, too, so he rubbed his chest once more before giving Steve a discreet wink and thumbs up.

They went to Steve’s room after Natasha and Clint returned. He went inside and grabbed the map and a marker on his table, took a look at the gray walls, and immediately went out. He raised the map to show them. “Birth Room first? Nearest here, upper corner.”

When they opened the door to the said room, Tony was the first one to groan. “This is so sad. It’s more like Death Room now instead.”

The same gray. “Guess you gotta mark this one,” Jan said. Steve nodded and did so, and they were all about to turn around and walk to the next room when Clint walked farther inside the room.

“Clint?” Natasha asked.

But of course, Clint didn’t hear her and simply continued walking until he was standing in front of the wall. And then he looked up.

“What is he looking—oh,” Steve murmured.

At the top part of the wall, on a place where none of them could reach, were rectangular things placed horizontally. _Polaroids_ , Steve’s mind supplied. It didn’t sink into him at first since what they were seeing was the plain white back of a film.

Clint looked at them and raised six fingers in question.

“Whose is missing here?” Jan asked, walking next to Clint and also looking above.

Bruce shrugged. “We can’t really tell. They’re glued backwards and out of reach.”

“The missing beanie on the living room was mine,” Wanda said.

“And the missing chair on the dining room was mine,” Steve added.

“Aside from those, there aren’t anything else that only has seven here, are there?” Jan asked.

Both Natasha and Bruce shook their heads.

“That sucks for you two,” Tony said, nodding to Steve and Wanda, “and to whoever was missing from that.” He nodded to the polaroids above.

“Let’s continue?” Natasha asked by her place at the door frame after the silence went on for too long.

Jan nodded, and all of them turned to walk the opposite way except Steve who was waiting for Clint. He had his brows furrowed before he looked to the side and caught gazes with Steve. He raised his right hand in a sorry gesture and jogged to him, and they both followed the rest of the group already walking on their way to the other rooms.

* * *

All of the rooms were gray. _All_ of them. They even went back to the kitchen to check it again, only to find out that even the color green of its walls was gone.

“How the fuck?!” seemed to be Tony’s favorite expression in everything, and Steve couldn’t blame him. It was already one thing to find the entire hallways stripped of any colors in a span of few hours, but it was another thing entirely to realize the implications of having your room change wall colors as well. Did someone do it while they were sleeping? Did somebody enter the room?

The thing that was freaking out Steve most was how quickly the entire thing was done. To repaint an entire house that fast, it would take dozens of people simultaneously working together. At first, he thought that maybe it was a prank, but even if all six of them worked together, it just won’t be finished in time. He was pretty sure the hallways were still damn colorful when he went back to his room to sleep.

And he doubt that Natasha, or Bruce, or Wanda would join a prank like that.

“This hurts my eyes, to be honest,” Jan said after they settled down in the living room for lunch. “It’s like looking at a black and white filtered scope. It’s draining me.”

“I know what you mean,” Tony said in-between bites of his noodles.

“I don’t understand, how can the entire house suddenly turn like this?” Natasha said.

“It would take a lot of people just to do this in the four hours that we were asleep,” Bruce said, saying what was also on Steve’s mind.

Wanda nodded. “And the fact that we all slept in…”

Steve finished his noodles first. With a wondering tone, he asked, “Are there any other people beside us here? Could they have done something to us when we were asleep? Make us sleep in?”

“That’s impossible.” Natasha bit her lip anxiously. “If there are anyone else aside from us, where were they for the past days?” The unspoken question was obvious to Steve: Where were they when she first arrived in here, feeling lost and all alone?

“That’s a possible explanation, unless someone from us is doing a prank.” Tony paused. “Which is unlikely. Very much unlikely. Because out of all us here, I will be the most inclined to do a prank. And I didn’t do this. Can’t do something this large. I only tried to switch the ketchup with hot sauce once, kind of also tried this and that, but uh, yeah, not this. Where the hell could we even get a really big amount of gray paint in the first place?”

“I knew that was you,” Bruce said with a sigh.

“No matter if it is a prank or something else entirely, the biggest question would still be why,” Wanda said quietly. She placed her hair in front, removed the tie holding it in a braid, before tying it back again. A nervous tick, Steve had learned.

“I think I’m more interested in the how,” Steve replied. When he received odd looks in return, he shrugged and placed his bowl down. “There weren’t any paint in here, and we know that the only people in this house are us seven. It’s unlikely to say that there are others hiding here, unless they’re really good at avoiding us. Like, really, really good.

“They’re also not just sneaking out at night or something, because I _do_ go out at night”—he and Jan shared a meaningful look—“and I’m very sure I don’t see anyone. In the short moment when we were all in our rooms up to the moment we woke up, how was the entire house painted?”

“Maybe it was actually a wallpaper and they just ripped It off?”

“Yeah! I didn’t thought of—”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean, Wonder Boy Stevie?”

“Remember the time you saw me lying in the hallways?” Steve asked Bruce.

Bruce nodded. “The same day Tony made you a map,” he replied.

“Wow, your memory is really something else,” Steve muttered before continuing louder, “I was looking for any hints  in the floor or ceiling, anything out of place. I scratched a part of the wall in frustration. It _is_ paint.”

“Going with the assumption that there are other people in here who painted the entire thing in record time, they could’ve easily entered our rooms if they have keys,” Jan stated.

“And assuming that there _are_ keys, the question is, where do these people came from and where are they right now?”

“There’s a best explanation for all that,” Steve said..

“And that is?” Bruce asked.

“There’s another door, or a window, or maybe even a portal. There is a way to get in and out of here.”

Tony leaned back and laughed. “You’re telling me that there may actually be a secret passageway here?”

Steve hesitated. “It’s just a speculation.”

Tony looked at him, still grinning but eyes sharp. “I thought so, too. If you’re going to start looking for it, then count me in.”

“Whoah, hold up,” Jan said, raising her hands. “What’s happening?”

“I believe they are proposing that we look for a possible way to get out of here,” Bruce said as he pushed his glasses up, perhaps aiming for a more dramatic effect but failing. Steve could see the corner of his lips lift.

“Is that—is that even an actual thing?” Natasha asked. “Is there even a life outside this House? We’ve been here for months. We have everything we need here. We should just stay here. We are doing okay!”

“Except we’re not really, ‘Tasha. Sorry,” Tony said. “We are not doing okay. Especially not when shit turned to gray and we don’t even know what that means.”

Jan elbowed him before smiling softly at Natasha. “But although vague, we do have memories, Natasha. I think I want to go to a mall,” Jan said gently.

Natasha stood up and paced around the room, lips pursed. “But we don’t even know if those are real. This could just be our life now. This simply _is_. I don’t want to get out, I don’t want to—” She stopped and faced them all. “Never mind, it’s stupid, but I—”

“You will not be losing us.”

They all whipped their heads to Wanda so fast that Steve thought they were going to have a whiplash. She was looking at Natasha with earnest eyes and a tilted head. “If we are really supposed to find our way out, then the only way to do it is together, is it not?”

Everybody broke into smiles. “Together,” Steve repeated.

Natasha let out a shaky breath before she fell to her knees. Clint was the one who went to her and give her a one-hand hug. “I’m sorry, that was selfish of me,” Natasha said. She closed her eyes, and while they couldn’t see any tears, Steve knew that it was the same. They placed the dishes again on the side and waited for Natasha.

When she opened her eyes, Natasha clasped her hands in front of her. Steve noticed they were shaking. “Okay,” she started.  “Again, let’s go with the facts first. Things we noticed after our little tour?”

Steve spoke up first and held out the map. “Everything in here is marked. The entire house’s walls are painted gray.”

“Except for the kitchen earlier this morning,” Bruce said. “Last place they painted, maybe? Jot it down.”

Clint, who was tasked with writing down the important facts, did so. He had a notepad and a pen on hand, and along with the old camera on his neck, Steve thought he looked like a detective.

“And all the lights are dim now, like the Relax Room. Except here just this morning. Last place they, I dunno, switched something? Jot it down,” Tony said, mimicking Bruce’s tone earlier which earned some chuckles and rolled eyes.

“So, those were the obvious ones,” Natasha said, “but anything else looked different to you guys? Own rooms, other rooms, anything?”

“I don’t think I’ve noticed anything,” Jan said thoughtfully.

“We were not exactly actively looking for it earlier,” Wanda said. “We were all simply focused on checking if a certain room was painted gray or if it had dim lights.”

“Point.” Jan sighed. “Should we do another round, then? Maybe split into groups to make it faster.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, great idea, except how can you be sure if something really changed?” Tony asked. “You know that thing where you’re not used to something so it feels weird, but later on you do get used to it and then you don’t remember anymore what it really used to look like? Wow, did that sentence even made sense?”

Steve nodded. “That make sense. I think seeing nothing but gray affects the way we think? Or maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I’m too bothered-at-yet-also-getting-used-to the walls that I don’t think I’ll notice if one of the couches in the relax room was turned another way, or a shelf moved a bit in the library.”

“Unless they’re missing,” Jan said.

“Unless they’re missing,” Steve confirmed, then raised a brow at her. “You really can’t let that go, huh?”

“We don’t really observe our surroundings well, too. Took everything very much for granted,” Natasha said lowly. “But maybe… Bruce?”

Bruce was already shaking his head before Natasha finished her sentence. “Don’t overestimate me. I do not have an eidetic memory. And like I, and you lot, keep on mentioning, it’s the trivial things that ends up being retained in my memory. It’s not exactly useful.”

“But do you have anything memorized related to the House? Anything at all?” Steve asked.

He fixed his glasses with a sigh before answering. “There are 98374 books in the library, 14593 of them are fiction, 32858 are manuals, 928 encyclopedia and almanacs, and the highest score in pinball is currently 7,543,601. Clint’s.”

“Wow,” Tony exclaimed. “Trivial.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I told you.”

Jan groaned and grabbed her hair, which was slightly longer now. “Augh! If only there was an easy and sure way to compare the entire room! If we only had a blueprint of the place, or a sketch, or…”

She trailed off, but everyone seemed to get the same idea as they all looked at Clint, still writing in his notepad. When he looked up and saw everyone’s eyes on him, he shrunk a little and did a hand gesture for _what?_

Jan flashed him a toothy grin. “Time for your pictures to shine, Clint. And let’s take tons of new ones.”

* * *

The Dark Room was too small for all of them, so Steve decided to just wait outside along with Bruce and Wanda while the others gathered pictures of the House. It would’ve been a fast and easy thing to do, but based on all the laughter he was hearing, Steve guessed that it would take a while.

Steve wasn’t a talkative person per se; he wasn’t like Tony or Jan, but he wouldn’t say that he’s a quiet person. That became more evident to him now that he was with the two won’t-really-talk-most-of-the-time-unless-necessary persons. He shifted his weight from one feet to another, not really sure if he should say something.

The rest finally poured out the room before he could make any cringe-worthy attempt at starting a conversation, and wow, Steve hadn’t been in that room for a while, but was that room big enough to have that amount of pictures? All of them were high piles.

“Clint has a really intensive picture collection of the entire House. Like, really, really intensive. I’d say it was creepy, but it’s gonna help us in our escapade, so nope, no complains here,” Tony said, giving a nod to Clint who rolled his eyes back at him.

“There is really a lot. What do we do with these?” Jan asked, shuffling and looking at the different pictures in her hand.

Tony beside him, who was glancing at what she was looking, raised an eyebrow and made a sound of surprise. “Whoah, is that Steve?” He grabbed a picture from Jan.

It was Steve lying down on the hallway.

“The same day as the map,” Steve said and shared an exasperated look with Bruce. “Yes, that. Again.”

“What are you doing there, man? Got lost and also lost all hope all the same? Reason why you went to me for a map, huh.”

Jan took the picture back from him and rolled her eyes. “We took this because this was one of the pictures of the hallway, not because of Steve.”

“Wow, thanks, Jan. I feel special,” Steve joked.

Jan just shoo’ed him.

Clint made gestures to the pictures and their surroundings. Natasha nodded thoughtfully and muttered, “Yeah, that would work.”

“What would? You know, not everyone here is an expert on Clint Speak. Or Gesture. Or ah, whatever,” Tony said.

Natasha ruffled his hair. “First, we group these pictures according to their rooms. And then we look at them one by one.” She furrowed her brows. “Should we do it by pairs to make everything faster?”

“Steve will be alone if we do it by pairs,” Wanda said, voice devoid of any hint if it was suspicion yet again, or concern.

“He can join the others,” Bruce said. When Clint waved his hands vigorously, he continued. “Looks like Clint wants to get him anyway.”

“Let’s sort this first.”

They sat on the floor and grouped the pictures together. When they were finished, they divided themselves into three groups: Clint, Steve, and Jan; Tony and Natasha; and Wanda and Bruce. Whether they were finished with all the rooms assigned to them or not, they decided to meet again in the living room by dinner.

* * *

Wanda and Bruce were already in the living room when Steve’s group arrived.

“How were yours?” Steve asked them in lieu of a greeting.

Steve was surprised that it was Wanda who answered. “We finished ours. I believe it was quite easy with the help of Bruce’s memory skills. How about you guys?”

They plopped down near them. Jan sighed. “Still have the mirror room left, which is so damn far, by the way. Why are we assigned to that? Instruments and arcade were our; that room’s all the other way around.”

“But was there anything noticeable?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. Clint took some pictures,” Steve said.

A few minutes later, the final pair arrived. They didn’t look happy, so Steve thought that it wasn’t necessary to ask them how had they been— their tired faces were enough to convey a story.

“Where’s Clint?” Natasha asked as she sat down.

“Probably in the kitchen for—oh wait, there he is. That smells like bacon, is that bacon? Oh my god, it is bacon,” Tony said, standing up again to help Clint who was holding a tray where he tried to fit in all the food and utensils.

“There must be another tray left for the drinks. I will get them,” Wanda said, going out before anyone could say anything. Steve was already about to stand up but Wanda had already disappeared from view. From his peripheral vision, Steve noticed that Bruce was sitting back down.

“Is it a good idea to go alone?” Jan pointed to the door. “But wasn’t the entire point of pairing up earlier was so that nobody is alone? Because-“

“Possible abductions, if there are other people beside us here,” Tony interrupted.

Jan paused as if mulling it over. “Not really what I was thinking, but things _had_ been missing. Like the chairs.”

Tony groaned. “The goddamned chairs!”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you guys keep on bringing up that kitchen incident.”

“That was your reason?” Natasha asked in surprise.

Jan shrugged. “Kinda, but not mostly. I’m just really bothered by how things can even go missing in here. I mean, Wanda’s quite short. If chairs can be chairnapped or something, it would be easy to get her too, right?”

A feeling of dread washed over them. Jan’s own eyes widened, as if she didn’t notice that she had said that.

“She… is actually taking long, isn’t she?” Steve realized.

“Hey, man.” Tony laughed weakly. “Don’t get all freaky like Jan now.” He looked at Jan, waiting for her to say something, but her lips were thinned and anxiety was showing in her face.

“Uh, I think I’ll go and help her,” Natasha said, standing up hurriedly, “Maybe she’s having troubles bringing the tray.”

Bruce also stood up. “I’ll go with you.”

Steve was not comfortable with them going anywhere without him. He also stood up, and so did Jan and Tony.

And then Wanda entered the living room, a tray with glasses and jar on hand. Her brows furrowed and stopped after a few steps. “What are you all doing?”

There was a collective sigh of relief.

“Oh! Uh, nothing. We were just,” Natasha stuttered.

There was a short moment of silence before Steve coughed and continued, “Stretching.”

Wanda didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push it nonetheless.

“Fast thinking. Good save,” Tony whispered. He winked at him and Tony snorted.

They settled down the trays. “You did take quite a long time,” Bruce nonchalantly mentioned.

“I accidentally spilled the first juice, so I had to do a new one.”

“I see,” Natasha said. “So, guys. Things noticed?”

They discussed the general lack of colors in the entire house, even including the books in the library and the game machines in the arcade room, which was unnerving to think about. Clint took pictures of them but ran out of film. They decided to continue taking pictures the next day when the new film rolls arrive. Maybe the differences would be clearer and easy to distinguish.

Tony complained that sleeping in the living room would be hard on the back, so they decided to stay in the Relax Room together for the night. Natasha noticed the bottle of whiskey on a table and raised a brow at Jan.

Steve answered her instead, which seemed to take her by surprise. “That’s four days ago.” And to Jan, “You haven’t cleaned it up yet?”

“Why the hell am I supposed to clean up?”

“Because you were the last one to drink?” Steve asked. “That’s the deal. Whoever chugged last cleans it up.”

“Right.” Jan grinned sheepishly before she grabbed the bottle and set it aside.

They worked together, pushing seven couches to form a big circle around a table with a lamp on it. And then, they slept.

* * *

There were no clocks in the room, but Steve thought it was still pretty early. Looking at his friends around him, he realized that this was probably the first time they all slept together on the same room since even though everyone was sleepy during movie nights, they still made it a point to get back to their own rooms afterwards.

It was nice.

Until he remembered their situation.

He sighed.

“That’s a pretty heavy one.”

He looked over to Jan, who was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

Jan nodded. She also looked around similar to what he did, and then there was a small smile on her face. “Looks like Relax Room won’t be an exclusive thing for us now,” she said lightheartedly.

“Yeah. You can’t hog me anymore,” Steve joked.

“Tragic.” She stood up and stretched. “But at least we can make better use of our unlimited alcoholic stuff.” She picked the empty bottle from before and started to walk towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Cleaning up?”

“You can do that later.”

“Weren’t you the one nagging at me yesterday? Awww, you’re worried about me, aren’t ya.”

“You’re going at it too early in the morning?” Tony asked.

Natasha groaned before she switched to her other side and covered her ears. “I don’t really want to hear that coming from you, Tony.”

“Yes. You and Jan are always going at it.” Bruce was already up and grabbing his glasses from the table.

Wanda was sitting up, eyes still unfocused; she really looked like a kid then.

“I meant the too early in the morning part, but nevermind.” Natasha tossed her blanket and immediately stood up. She scratched her head and groaned one more time before she muttered, “Good morning.”

“It’s during times like this that I realize that the communal bathroom slash showers slash sinks thingy were good. I mean, I used to think it suck because we don’t use that anyway since we all have one in our rooms. But now that our rooms suck, yeah, nice.”

“I can smell your breath from here,” Jan said, looking back at them with one hand on her hips, the other holding the bottle over her shoulders. “Are you all gonna continue looking like that or are we all gonna start to at least brush our teeth so we don’t accidentally kill each other?”

Maybe it wasn’t so bad at all. They were all thinking about finding a way out, but Steve thought that they were all doing it half-heartedly anyway. Although the whole thing _was_ quite freaky, they will just fall into a new habit in the end. Just this time, the seven of them would be sleeping together, waking up together, and doing everything else together with the pretense of attempting to get out.

Together.

He was in a light mood when they went to the communal sinks, when they prepared some of the instant food in the kitchen, when they were walking back to the living room—until they arrived.

“Okay, can I start freaking out?” Tony squeaked.

The television was turned on, and in the middle of the black screen was the word ESCAPE in a big, white font.

They all went quiet at that and in an unspoken agreement, they walked to their places. Bruce muttered a “if I was hesitant before, this changed my mind” and Steve could empathize.

Breakfast was done in silence. Since Steve was the farthest from the television, he was also the one directly in front of it. The others kept their gazes down, as if they didn’t want to acknowledge its existence. Steve was about to do the same but he noticed something.

“Are those numbers?” he asked.

Everyone’s gazes snapped to him. He pointed at the television. “Underneath the letters.”

Tony turned around and squinted his eyes. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

It was small and almost transparent, but Steve could make out numbers one to six, underneath each of the letters of the word ESCAPE.

“The number six again,” Wanda commented.

“Six chairs, beanbags, and polaroids left. Six books, artworks, and sunglasses missing.” Jan frowned. “What does that mean?”

The screen flickered and Steve had to remind himself to breathe as he read the new words.

F I N D  T H E  O N E

“One?” Natasha whispered.

“The letters before ‘one’ are seven letters,” Bruce said, voice calm but he kept on crossing and uncrossing his arms.

“Trivial!” Tony said. “Shouldn’t we be, uh, more worried about who the hell turned on the TV? Who wrote this stuff? _How_ did they do it?”

“And ‘find the one’? What one? Why?” Jan asked.

They threw in their different theories, and Steve pitched his: “Find the one that doesn’t escape?”

“What?”

Somehow, Steve’s half-assed comment stood out. “No, just—I just remembered there were six numbers earlier, so, it’s like telling us that six should escape…” He shrugged, not really expecting his ramblings to go anywhere.

Tony continued, “…and there is one that doesn’t?”

“No! Every one of us should escape. All us seven.”

“We don’t even have a clue how to escape yet.”

“Or maybe it means that one _does not need_ to escape.”

“What are you implying, Wanda?”

“Just sharing my thoughts.”

“How can one not need to escape?”

“If this is not a closed space for them? If they can actually go in and out here as they please?”

“Are you saying that one of us—”

“Why is it that I don’t want to accept that but that just feels strangely right?”

“Uh, ridiculous? How can they—”

“Find the one traitor.”

They all stopped and looked at Steve. He let out an awkward laugh. “That can’t be it, right?”

They all laughed along, but somehow, Steve knew that they wouldn’t be able to get the thought out their mind for a while.

“Well, I’m gonna go to my room and work on some stuff or else I’ll lose my mind. See you guys,” Tony said, standing up, but it sounded like a question. They were treading a thin line; worried about the ‘traitor’, but didn’t want to be the suspicious asshole.

Jan also stood up. “I’ll be in the arcades then. I need to release all this stress.”

They all went to different rooms; Steve going with Wanda to the library. He waited for her to say something, but she was surprisingly quiet.

* * *

When it was dinner time, Steve went to the living room but only found Natasha and Bruce. Natasha waved at him and gave a small smile. “Hey, Steve. You can go straight to the kitchen and just grab something there to eat.”

Steve turned around and didn’t see Wanda. Figuring that she went ahead, he gave them a small salute and went to the kitchen.

Clint was sitting with an arm draped over the backrest, balancing the chair on one foot. When he arrived, Clint waved at him with two hands—one holding a bitten apple and then he went back to eating.

Steve sat on the opposite chair and grabbed a toast from the table.

When he went to the Relax Room, everyone was sitting on their couches. Jan raised a bottle and greeted him. “Took you so long. Come on, it’s finally a group drinking session!”

“Is it really a good thing to drink now?” Steve asked as he grabbed the glass that Jan just poured whiskey into.

“Why, afraid I’ll be poisoning you all?” Jan took a gulp straight from the bottle then gave him a wink. “Safe, see?”

Steve rolled his eyes—“You know that’s not what I meant.”—And went to sit in his couch.

“Hey, this is good. Who knows, maybe the one will end up being drunk as hell and tell us their deepest, darkest secrets,” Tony joked, making air quotes as he said ‘the one’.

When Steve looked around, he noticed that even Wanda was holding a glass, though it was still full. “Wait, isn’t she a minor?” he asked Jan.

“ _She_ is here and you can ask her directly,” Wanda said. “And we are not really sure about that, are we?”

“Dude. You are obviously a minor,” Tony said.

“You didn’t have any complains earlier.”

“I still don’t, I’m just saying she’s obviously a minor.”

Wanda drank and finished it in one go, but did a disgusted expression after. Everyone laughed and drank, making passive-aggressive jokes. Tension was still high, but they were trying to ignore it and make it look like everything was still the same.

Steve knew it wasn’t.

He noticed that Natasha’s glass was just on the table in the middle of their couches. When she noticed him looking at it, she leaned near him, put a finger in front of her mouth and whispered, “Someone needs to keep an eye on you guys, make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Don’t tell Jan.” Steve smiled at her still-unwavering motherly antics and nodded.

Steve was one of the first people who raised the white flag and slept, not because he couldn’t handle the liquor anymore—he and Jan had been going at it for a few nights already—but because he was sleepy. Wanda didn’t really want to input anything so she went to sleep. Tony was surprisingly a lightweight.

He wasn’t sure what time did they sleep, but it didn’t matter anymore. It’s not like they need to wake up early any more for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is the last time I'm going to start or end a chapter with Steve waking up or going to sleep. I think. Uh, hopefully.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Last few chapters should be easier to edit," she said. _It wasn't._ The amount of placeholders and "research here" was ridiculous. I'm aiming to get all chapters up before the year ends, so wish me luck!
> 
> Uh, handwavy/fake/poorly-researched science ahead. Also, 'Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings' for a reason. It will get better though, I swear.

Clint gestured that there were no new film rolls, Jan complained about the lack of replenishment in their liquor stock, and Natasha noted that their ingredients cabinet was not touched. The House was not providing them anything they needed anymore.

Steve didn’t want to be the negative one—it was Tony’s job—but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency.

They need to _get out_ or something. Fast. While their food still last.

“Natasha totally jinxed it,” Tony muttered. They were all in the kitchen, coming to an agreement that no one should take more than they need with their limited supplies.

“That’s not a good thing to say,” Bruce snapped.

Tony raised his hands in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture and moved towards the door. “Calm down. I was joking. Anyway, I’m gonna go around, find other suspicious things, stuff. I don’t know. Steve, wanna come with me?”

Steve blinked before responding, “Sure.”

“We should look, too,” Natasha said to Bruce, and the two of them stood up and went to the other door.

“Okay, we go here, you guys go there?” Jan said, moving to stand near Steve. She stared down at Wanda, who stared back calmly and silently walked to Bruce.

Clint, who was left in the middle, looked at both groups. Bruce, Natasha, and Wanda started to walk to the other direction. Steve was still looking at Clint, looking conflicted. Tony and Jan also started walking away.

Their eyes met. Clint bit his lip before tipping his head at him, and took of running the other way.

They were simply going into groups to make thing faster, right?

 

* * *

 

They weren’t.

Steve was unsure how it happened or when did it start, but the divide became more apparent. Nobody bothered going to the communal rooms to wait for anyone; they all did their own things, on their own pace. They were still looking for _something_ , but their investigation leads to nowhere.

Sometimes, Steve would go to the library and find Wanda there. At first he was hesitant, but when Wanda acted like normal, he mentally berated himself, because why was he hesitant again in the first place?

It was Day Three when they all gathered together accidentally, surprisingly in the walk-in closet room out of all places. It happened that Steve’s group (since when was it a group?) was there because Jan wanted Tony to stop looking like a hobo, and then Natasha appeared. She looked painfully awkward and was about to leave, but Bruce and Wanda also arrived and blocked her on her way out. Not a minute later, Clint appeared.

“Hey guys! Uh, hi. How are you guys? Hi,” Tony mumbled.

Natasha visibly inhaled and took powerful strides forward. “Hey, Tony. Build anything new?”

It was just an innocent question, but somehow, it escalated to another round of pointing fingers and argument about who is the possible one.

“It’s Steve. Have you all forgotten how he’s the only one different? He doesn’t have a name. Heck, it was Tony who gave him his name!”

“He doesn’t even have an urge.”

“I thought we already established that it was questioning things?”

“And being an annoying yet amusing asshole,” Tony quipped.

“That’s not even believable.”

“Uh, yeah, as if Wanda’s entire tying knots was believable?”

“She proved it before, didn’t she?”

“I think somebody mentioned it before, but what if she’s just really, I don’t know, a girl scout?”

“And what if you are just an engineer?”

“If we will be talking about believable urges, how about Natasha, huh?”

“Why do you keep on attacking Natasha—”

“That actually makes sense. Wait, shit, now that I think about it. How can we even believe that she was really the first here who stayed for seven days? I mean, she could be the plant and have been here the same time as Clint.”

“What? No! I was really here—”

“You keep on telling it was Steve that was different, yet it was you, wasn’t it?”

“I’ve always thought her reaction two days ago was over the top.”

“It said find the one, right? If Steve is seventh, then it makes sense. Natasha is literally the _one_.”

They went quiet at that. Natasha was shaking her head furiously, a frown on her face. She took a step back from them. “No, it’s not me. I don’t… no. I’m not—”

And then, she turned around and walked away. Tony shrugged. “That’s not exactly the reaction of a person not guil—hey, Steve, where are you going?”

If the others said anything, Steve didn’t hear it, already running to chase after Natasha almost on autopilot. But just after one corner, he already lost her. Damn, fast legs. On his right was the room full of mirrors, its door opened.

Well, at least there’s still something in this House that has color.

Frustrated and tired, he decided to lie down on the hallway. Just like his first day, he recalled. He stared at the ceiling. The lights weren’t blindly bright anymore, so this time, he was able to see a… was that a dent? Steve sat up and tried to look again. There _was_ a dent on the ceiling. It was just small and barely noticeable, but it was there.

“This feels familiar,” Bruce said, and then he looked over him. “Did you see where Natasha went?”

Steve shook his head. That was important, but “Bruce! Look there!” He pointed at the dent.

Bruce looked up. “Huh. That… doesn’t look normal.”

They gathered in the hallway except Natasha, carrying a barely-held-together-by-masking-tape stick made of different kitchen utensils and tools. They bumped it on the dent and other parts of the ceiling with great difficulty, needing to tighten or re-apply the masking tape once in a while. The area around the dent was the only one that produced a hollow sound.

“Holy shit. Is that an actual exit? Oh my god, see, it even appeared when we figured out Natasha was the one. Holy shit.”

“No, I think it had been there for a long time. We just didn’t see it because the lights were bright,” Steve explained.

“And I do not think it is usual to stare on the ceiling. Suspicious, seventh,” Wanda said.

Jan was quick to react. “Why you—”

But Steve was faster; he already knew how Wanda teased other people by now. “You think people who use bookmarks are suspicious, too. Can’t really take your word now.”

“But how do we even make a hole on the ceiling?”

Minutes later, all of them brought multiple things they could find in the House that were hard and easy to throw. “There are no use for these pans anyway,” Tony said.

They looked stupid as they threw things at the ceiling. It sometimes had hit their body when it bounced back, and on one occasion, hit Tony in the head. It was the same pan he brought.

Nothing was effective.

“We should just blow it up,” Jan muttered.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That is actually a good idea. We can make use of your tendency to burn things down.”

“Uh, how? We can’t really bring the stove here. And the ceiling is too high anyway.”

“How about a homemade dynamite?”

“Like an improvised explosive device?”

“No, the food. Of course that one, dummy.”

“Can you even make one? Do we even _want_ you to make one?”

“I think I can,” Jan said. “But I doubt the ingredients I need are here? We have some fuel in the kitchen... though I can probably make an acetone peroxide, but we don’t even have acetone—”

“We do,” Bruce said, crossing his arms.

“Uh, no? Pretty sure there wasn’t any, nor any nail polish. It was a sad moment.”

“We have hair tonics and conditioners. Remember the dye you used for your hair?”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No.”

“Holy hell, can we even use that, though? Like, won’t you need it concentrated? A big amount of it or something? There must only be a limited amount of it in the tonics.”

“We’re not planning to bomb the entire place, right? Only a small IED to throw there. I think the amount's perfect. How about hydrogen peroxide?”

Bruce stood straighter and fixed his glasses. “Our antiseptic has it. 3%.”

“Sulphuric acid?”

“Our drain unblocker has that. Pretty big percent, if I remember correctly. 87%.”

“I can’t believe your trivial shit is actually helpful.”

Jan grinned and punched her fists together. “Let’s start building our little firework!”

They assigned things to gather. Somewhere along the road, Clint managed to find Natasha and brought her with him. She was quiet the entire time, but she managed to flash a smile at Steve.

Bruce updated her on the plan which made Jan visibly skeptical. They all worked on the explosive despite the tense atmosphere.

Sometimes, one or two would go and come back bringing sandwiches for them to eat. Jan and Tony mainly worked; Tony looked enthusiastic at the notion of creating something while Jan led. Steve noticed Clint frowning at them, and when he asked him, he just gave this sad expression and pointed at his camera—that didn’t have any film left, he realized.

“Just tape this in and… we’re done.” Jan stood up and stared down at the small, harmless-looking tube in her hands. “Wow. We actually did that using scraps.”

“It is why it was called an improvised explosive device, is it not?”

“Stop being an ass, Wanda.”

“Does it explode on contact or there is a time limit?”

“I mixed it in a way that it should explode on contact. Hopefully?”

“Steve and the Questions That Matter.”

“You guys go as far as you can, and then I’ll throw this above and then also run as fast as I can,” Jan said.

“That’s dangerous. I won’t let you,” Natasha said.

“Wow, since when are you the boss of me?” Jan challenged.

“Jan,” Steve reprimanded.

“What? You’re siding with her?”

There it was. The elephant in the room. “I’m not siding with anyone,” Steve said firmly.

“If we really need to throw it, then I should do it,” Natasha said. There were noises of disapproval before Natasha shook her head and stood her ground. “I can ran fast. Steve can attest to that.”

Not liking the attention shift, Steve hurriedly replied, “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be throwing bombs. For anyone, actually.”

Tony suddenly stood up and everyone took a hesitant step back as he held up the IED in his hand. That couldn’t be good. He hadn’t uttered more than 20 words earlier, too.

He grinned. “You guys better start running.”

Steve was confused but didn’t hesitate. He started walking away with quick strides, and he could see Clint just slightly after him. Steve only stopped running when the sound of explosion and wood falling to the floor stopped as well.

When he looked back, he saw Tony with his face flat on the floor, unmoving.

Steve inhaled sharply, but let out a breath of relief when he realized that Tony was far from the rubble on the hallway. He probably just ran and tripped, overly dramatic as he always was.

When they walked back and looked at the now gaping hole in the ceiling, there was a collective intake of breath. It was pitch black, sure, but it definitely looked like a way out _._

“Anyone wanna check it out?” Jan asked. Tony was sitting up, confirming Steve's thoughts.

Clint raised his hands.

“Okay. Anyone else? We can’t let Clint do it alone.”

And that was how Steve found himself stepping on Jan and Bruce’s linked arms. Clint was the first one up. When he reached the top, he held his hand out to Steve and pulled him up.

“What are you guys seeing?” Tony shouted from below.

Steve looked around. “Nothing!”

“Haa?”

It was exactly what he could see: none at all. Just pitch black. If it wasn’t for the light coming from the hole they had made, Steve would not even be sure that they were walking on something.

He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked at Clint, raising his eyebrows in question. The shadows shifted and he realized that Clint had his index finger out. When Steve turned to see the area he was pointing at, he noticed a glint of… something.

With hesitant steps, they walked nearer, Steve slightly in front. When they were just a few steps away from the glint, Steve listened to his screaming instincts and stopped. He placed his other foot lightly in front of him, trying to feel the platform in front.

Steve paused, heartbeat speeding. It was an empty space. He crouched down and tried to touch it. Still empty.

When Steve looked carefully, he’d say that he can see a faint light below—like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. A very, very long tunnel, but it still had an _end_.

He broke into a smile. It was what they had been looking for. He couldn’t see Clint’s face since they had their backs to their main light source, but he could feel him grinning.

“Are you guys still alive? Steve?” Steve heard Jan shout.

Steve stood up and, couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Yeah! Still here!” He tapped Clint’s shoulder before he also stood up, and they walked back. “And we have amazing news!”

They had to jump to get down.

“So what is this amazing news?” Bruce asked when they landed.

It was friggin’ high and it hurt a bit, but he shrugged it off. Besides, there were more important things.

“There’s a light below,” Steve explained excitedly. He looked at Clint, expecting him to back him up on that and wasn’t disappointed when Clint bobbed his head up and down, giving them two thumbs up.

“That doesn’t make sense. There’s a light below. Below? Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t. Or maybe I’m just concussed from tripping earlier. Hey, what’s the chance that I’m bleeding internally?” Tony turned to Jan, who just rolled her eyes at him fondly and totally disregarded his comment.

She faced Steve and heaved a sigh, but her tone was patient when she spoke. “Step-by-step, Steve. You know? Remember how we did the IED? That’s called step-by-step.” Okay, _not_ genuine patient.

“It looked pitch black up there,” Wanda said.

Steve looked at her. “Yeah. Really, really black. It’s kind of hard to explain, but there was an endpoint? The edge of the House, and it looked like there was a way down.”

“Hold that thought right there and let me process that first. Wait.” Tony closed his eyes tightly and then opened them a few seconds later. “So you’re saying that, what, it’s a way to access the underground?”

“Or we are in a higher place so it is not ‘underground’ at all,” Bruce said.

“That’s ridiculous. This place is like, an entire city. How can we be above?”

“Excuse me? I’m confused.”

“But Steve said that there is a light. Shouldn’t it be dark if it’s underground?”

“Unless the underground tunnel has lights?” Tony said in a duh manner.

Steve massaged his temples. “The only way to find out is to check it out.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Bruce asked. “I doubt anyone would want to volunteer.”

“Except we do have someone here who supposedly has the urges to jump off high places, right?” Tony said, a sardonic grin on his face.

The feeling of dread came back to Steve twofold. Clint bit his lips, Wanda actually looked bothered, and Bruce frowned.

Natasha was still quiet.

“See? Can’t say anything. You know it’s true. Everything is going smoothly if you think that she’s like, actually this ‘the one’.”

“There are flaws in your logic. If she is a traitor as you presume, then why should she be the first one to go to the exit?” Bruce spoke.

“Why are we even in this mess in the first place?” Tony shot back. “There are a lot of flaws in this entire House’s logic, man. There could be lotsa reason. Maybe she triggers something, maybe she opens a door, maybe whatever on the underground, or whatever, only needs to see her and then we get out.”

“Or maybe it’s not a way out at all,” Steve said, feeling so fucking disappointed. “Maybe it’s just for the one.” Realizing what he said, he immediately looked at Natasha and saw her avoid his gaze. That wasn’t even what he meant. He cursed his mouth that always blurted what was on mind without him being able to gather his thoughts properly.

Clint was wildly scribbling on the notepad he seemed to be fond of the past few days. When he finished writing, he showed it to Steve.

“Not sacrifice ‘the one’ person right?” was written.

Jan crossed her arms, expression tight. “I’ll go. The rest, or maybe Steve and Clint again, should watch and observe what happens.”

“Are you insane?” Tony placed his hands on her shoulders and shook her. “We don’t know what will happen! And that task isn’t for you. If somebody needs to be sacrificed”—Steve thought that the notepad was only meant to be shown to him, but Tony probably took a peak since he was just beside him—“then Natasha should be the most preferred candidate.”

“Tony,” Wanda snapped. “You are acting immature.”

Jan tsked. “I hate agreeing with her. Anyway, don’t worry, don’t really care. If something happens, I can still come back and visit you guys as a ghost,” she said jokingly.

Steve was terrified.

“No. Let me do it.”

It was spoken so softly that Steve thought it was just his imagination, but seeing everyone look at Natasha, he decided that it was real.

“You don’t have to, Nat,” Steve said. “Nobody does. We can do something else. Maybe we can blow the walls, too.”

Jan shook her head. “The walls are made by the same damn hard thing, like the rest of the ceiling. See how we had a perfect circle from the explosion? It looks like that place is the only soft one.”

“Knocking the entire floor and ceiling of the House will also take us ages,” Bruce muttered, and it looked like it physically pained him to continue, “And there are no ingredients left. Resources don’t get replenished.”

“Bruce, it’s okay,” Natasha said, touching his shoulder. “I kind of want to. I’m the only one left whose urges haven’t been fulfilled you know?” Natasha sounded like she had her mind made up and nobody commented on it. Hearts heavy, nobody spoke.

“You should have a rope,” Wanda said.

Natasha looked at her in surprise. “We have some ropes in the tool box, but I doubt it’s enough.”

“We can also use bed sheets!” Steve said, remembering the cabinet in his room.

Wanda nodded at him and then turned to each of them. “Can we all go back to our rooms and gather all the bed sheets, towels, or blankets that we can?”

“What are you planning?”

“I can tie them all together.” Wanda hesitated for a second, before continuing with stronger conviction. “I will.”

Steve finally saw a genuine smile from Natasha again.

They went back to their rooms. Steve saw that even Tony brightened up a little when Wanda mentioned the ropes, and he was running with little skips on his steps.

After piling them all up and occupying a big space in the hallways, Wanda sat down and started to work. Jan leaned on a wall and played the DS she brought with her. Natasha sat near Wanda, and the rest of them didn’t really have anything to do but didn’t really feel like leaving as well, either. So they all just sat and watched Wanda work, the sounds of the game Jan was playing in the background.

“I’m finished,” Wanda finally said. She leaned back and stretched a bit. Natasha took her hand and smiled at her. “Thank you, Wanda.”

Natasha stood up. “Well, time to fly. Hey, Jan, Bruce. Can you guys lift your cheerleader up?”

Since Natasha was hella long but _light_ , it was easy for Jan and Bruce to bring her up. Steve heard her intake of breath and muttered ‘wow’ as he prepared to go up next. This time, it was Steve who pulled Clint up after grabbing the makeshift rope from him.

“Are you sure about this? I can do it, you know,” Steve said to Natasha. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“No offense meant, Steve, but I don’t think our little rope here can handle your weight. Good thing I did all those exercise, huh?”

“These are just blankets. You don’t—I’m not.” Steve groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. “They are not really safe.”

“I trust Wanda’s knots. Look at these.” She brought up the part where two blankets were tied together and tugged. “They look impossible to untie.”

“They do,” Steve quietly agreed.

Clint grabbed one end of the rope and tied it around Natasha’s waist. When he was finished, he took a step back, shook his head, and then proceeded to also tie it around her armpits. A lot more loops later, he stepped back and, finally looking satisfied.

Steve looked at the rope that then looked more like a harness, raking his eyes from those at the waist until he met Natasha’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow and her hands in a shrugging gesture, and suddenly they were laughing.

“Are you guys not starting yet?” somebody shouted from below.

The smiles from their faces faded and they all somberly walked toward the edge. Steve made sure that he was walking in front of her—he didn’t want her to suddenly walk straight to the bottom.

“Oh, I just remembered. There was something I wanted to ask you when we were in the closet room before, but I forgot since…” she trailed off, but Steve understood what she meant.

“Ask me later.”

Natasha stopped walking, and when Steve turned back to raise an eyebrow at her, she just shook her head and then they continued walking again.

“Sure.”

When they reached the edge, Natasha looked down. “Wow. Hearing you talk about it is different than actually looking at it. Very interesting.” She flashed him a grin. “Makes me wanna jump already.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t need to jump. Just slowly climb down. Me and Clint will hold the rope, and the others are also holding the other end below. Bruce is really clinging at it pretty tightly.”

“You can’t really tell just how far down is that light.”

“If we ever run out of blankets, we’ll tug the rope thrice and then lift you up, okay? Then we just have to make an even longer rope. We got your back.”

Clint gave a thumbs up before walking to Natasha. He hesitated, then slapped his hands to her arms and gripped them tightly, giving one firm nod.

“Thank you,” Natasha said softly while also doing the hand sign for it.

Clint took their makeshift rope and looked at Steve. “Guess we’re ready.”

And then, they were already lowering her slowly. “How are you?” Steve asked.

“Seriously, Steve? We just started. Anyway, don’t worry about me. It’s actually giving me the adrenaline that I felt had been missing my entire life.”

“We’ll lower you even slower.”

“That would just make it harder for you guys. Just get me down.”

They did. Just after a few meters down, Natasha released a short ouch.

“Natasha!”

“Don’t worry!” she shouted. “I just bumped something! Get me lower!”

Steve and Clint continued. Clint was the one closer to the edge, while Steve was a few steps back. They’ve made an unspoken ( _well_ ) timing for the lowering. Steve can feel his muscles being worked out. He should’ve made more use of the exercise room.

Steve wasn’t sure how long had it been, but he took a quick glance back and saw that there was still a small pile of the blankets. They were still on the safe zone. Steve’s muscles were becoming numb.

And then Clint whipped his head back at him, eyes wide. Clint motioned to the edge and Steve rushed to kneel beside him. He couldn’t see the edge. Everything was pitch black.

“What was that? Come on, we need to lift her up.” He tugged the rope thrice before proceeding to pull Natasha up, but it was difficult to do it alone. Clint was still looking below in shock.

“Clint! Clint!” Of course, shouting didn’t help. With great effort, he used his feet to touch Clint without removing his hold on the rope. He jumped a bit before he clumsily stood up and help him pull.

Until the rope became lighter. Extremely lighter. Steve swore, heart pounding in his chest.

They pulled the rope up, faster, and faster, and faster… and they reached the end of the rope, but there was no Natasha in sight. The blankets used for the makeshift harness wasn’t there, too. A knot had likely loosened.

Steve couldn't remember how it happened, but he was suddenly by the edge. kneeling down and looking below.

Jan was playing, Wanda was silently sitting, Tony was eating something, and Bruce was holding the other end of the rope tightly.

Steve bit his lip. He couldn’t go down there. Not yet. But the choice was ripped off him when Tony looked up.

“Oh, hey! You guys are back. Found anything interesting?” Tony asked.

The relief was obvious when they first saw him, but Steve didn’t know what expression he was making that they immediately stiffened again.

Jan pushed herself off the wall. “What happened?”

Steve glanced back at Clint and saw him fiddling with his fingers. He caught his eyes and mouthed ‘you ok?’. Clint nodded,  moving his hands to his fiddle with his camera instead.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Get down.” Bruce’s tone was neutral, but there was a commanding edge to it that Steve knew he couldn’t ignore. He took another quick glance at Clint before jumping down. This time, he landed better so there wasn’t shock, but it wasn’t perfect so he wobbled slightly. Jan was fast to hold him up.

Clint landed in front of him. He couldn’t help but look down while everyone else looked up, clearly waiting for someone else to come out and jump down.

It was quiet.

Bruce spoke first. “What happened?” he asked.

Steve clenched his fists. They were waiting for him to speak, but he couldn’t _breathe_. He suddenly remembered Natasha—her small smiles, her pats on the shoulder, her familial love. The smile she gave him before she went down.

She… could still be somewhere. And she was alone. What if she was terrified to death, couldn’t see or feel anything? What if she were shouting out their names?

The world turned black, just like he feared it was for Natasha.

 

* * *

 

Steve opened his eyes and saw Jan seating in front of him. He was also seated himself, leaning on the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. He crossed his legs just as Jan asked, “Does anything hurt?”

He opened his mouth to automatically reply that he was fine, but there was a sharp pain at the back of his head. He flinched and gingerly touched it, feeling a small bump.

“You fainted, though just for a few minutes. We’re still here in the hallway,” Bruce said beside him.

Tony sat next to Jan. “Scared us there, Steve. I just turned around then you were on the floor. Everything happened so fast—I couldn’t catch you in time and your head was already on the floor and, oh god.” Tony palmed his face and groaned. “I’m just happy there wasn’t a pool of blood there right now.”

Jan elbowed him before turning to Steve. “We would’ve brought you to the relax room to lie down, but you woke up before we even finished talking.”

“What are you guys talking ab—” And the sudden onslaught of memories, of what happened just few minutes prior, made him stand up. Or at least, that was his body’s plan, but he got hit with intense pain and dizziness that he was struggling to go back to his seat on the next second. Wanda, who was on his other side, held his arm and helped him down. She frowned.

“Can you not move so fast? You did bump your head on the floor hard,” she said, and a beat later added, “You may have a concussion. Can you please be careful?”

Surprised, Steve only managed to make a small “yes” before he remembered what he was about to say. “Natasha is—was—we need to check—” he stopped when Bruce laid a hand on his shoulder with a firm grip.

“We know. Clint wrote it down while you were unconscious,” he softly said.

Steve directed his attention to Clint, who was sitting next to Jan and was hugging his legs tightly. He was looking at the notepad on the floor in front of him with so much intensity, fingers playing an invisible piano on his arms.

Steve leaned forward and started to crawl near him. He stopped for a moment when Wanda held the hem of his shirt to give her a small and hopefully convincing smile. Her mouth thinned but she nodded. Steve touched the notepad, deciding to get his attention first. He saw Clint blink multiple times before slowly looking up to meet his gaze.

“You okay?” Steve mouthed.

Clint gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace. Nobody commented on it.

“Can I borrow this?” Steve asked, tapping his fingers on the notepad. Clint stopped finger drumming to give him a thumbs up and a ‘go ahead’ gesture. Steve mouthed his thanks and grabbed the notepad before going back to his position.

The notepad was small and Clint’s writing was big, so Steve had to turn it back a few pages to find the beginning. He didn’t want to relieve it, but he wanted to see if he had missed anything. Maybe there was something that Clint noticed that he hadn’t that could give them a clue to Natasha’s whereabouts.

As he continued reading, he frowned—and then, it was like a light bulb moment. He suddenly remembered something.

“Natasha mentioned that she bumped on something while we were lowering her down. It was a few miles down,” he said. “There was a bump. A bump!” He whipped his head to Bruce. “We need to go and check it out.”

“Go back there? Are you serious? _You_ surely bumped your head.” Tony said, shaking his head wildly. “Nope, we’re not. Ropes weren’t secure. And it’s just a bump. Maybe it’s a random bump. You know. _Bump._ Random bump.”

Steve saw from the corner of his eyes that Wanda’s head dipped low when Tony mentioned the rope, and noticed that Jan looked at her with soft eyes when she did. When Tony finished talking, Jan turned back her attention at him.

“And the dent in the ceiling was just a random dent?” Jan sighed, leaning on the wall and looking at the ceiling. “I think we’re all aware by now that there is no such thing as ‘random’ and ‘coincidences’ in this place.”

“Exactly, that’s why we need to go back—”

“But we are not going back there immediately,” Jan finished.

“What? Why?” Steve know his voice was raising but he couldn’t really help himself.

Bruce had a hand covering his mouth, thinking before he nodded to himself. Sitting up and fixing his glasses, he coughed once before he spoke. “Jan’s right. That bump is more likely an important thing that we cannot afford to overlook, but”—he held up a hand and stopped before Steve could say anything—“It won’t do us any good to rush without plan. Look where it brought us,” he said, almost whispering the last part before he coughed again and continued, louder. “So we’ll think this through first. We have time.”

“I will make a stronger rope. Please, help me make sure it is strong enough,” Wanda said quietly.

That was the first time Steve ever heard Wanda say please. He reached out and messed her hair, a small smile on his face. “Sure.”

There was shuffling and Steve looked to his right to see Clint standing up, looking extremely confused and surprised. Steve could feel for him.

“I don’t understand how you guys can—I’ll be back in our room. Or kitchen first, eat something, shower, sleep. I don’t know. I’ll just—bye, see you. I can’t—oh my god,” Tony muttered before he turned around and walked briskly away from them. Steve thought his eyes were glassy.

Bruce stood up and dusted off his pants. “Let’s go back. We can talk about it at a later time.”


	9. Chapter 9

Steve would describe everything and everyone as a mess. They never brought up the topic again, but it was obvious that nobody had forgotten it. Who could? They were missing not just a chair, but _a person._

Wanda wasn’t able to remove the knots she had made, proving to Steve (and the others) that it couldn’t have been easily untied like some of them thought. Still, she wasn’t contented so Steve helped her out in doubling the knots. Clint and Steve pulled both sides in the longest hallway to test it out, which turned into a short tug of war when the others joined in.

An underlying current of anxiety was present even though they all tried to continue their days like normal. The divide, although not as big as before, was still there. Steve was still  conflicted being somewhere on the middle—like Jan inviting him to drink with him after he had made plans with Wanda to read each other’s favorite books from the recent ones they’ve finished, or Bruce asking him if he wants to eat with him while he was on his way to bring Tony food while he was tinkering things.

He knew that Tony had his tinkering binge moments (the stories mostly came from Natasha), though it was definitely something else to experience it firsthand. Their schedules were all different, but in the end, they still go to the Relax Room if they need to sleep. Tony made an area of the Relax Room just like his own room with various tools on the floor, and he’d work on different things day and night. Steve made it his personal job to make sure he eats something.

He didn’t have any idea what Tony was building. Was it something important, or was he just doing something because he couldn’t keep still? Not that it couldn’t be said for the others.

Even though it was agreed that the ropes were really already damn tight, Steve would still sometimes catch Wanda adding more knots or tightening them on the other corner of the room. Clint kept on fiddling with his camera. Jan would probably attempt to cook something, but aside from the fact that they have very limited resources left, it wouldn’t be a good time to burn things. They could lose a lot of things.

They might not talk about it, but the lingering looks on the television in the Living Room said a lot. There should be a point of Natasha volunteering and all, right? Nothing happened, and it terrified Steve.

Until the next Day One came.

 

* * *

 

Steve woke up to someone talking loud and fast. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. “Tony, not too loud,” he murmured.

“I think I can be loud if I want to, because outside is—and the kitchen has—oh wow,” Tony frantically said, pacing in the middle of the room. “What did we do?”

Steve was fully awake.

“Calm down,” Bruce said as he walked closer to Tony to lay a hand on his shoulder, but Tony slapped it away.

“I can’t calm down, Bruce. I just can’t. Did you see it?” Tony rambled.

Bruce didn’t look offended, and instead used two hands to grip his shoulders tighter. “Tony. You’re panicking. Listen and follow my breathing, okay? Inhale, exhale.”

Steve glanced around as Tony stopped moving and followed Bruce’s instructions. Wanda was sitting with a book on her lap, Jan was standing up, ready to support Tony if he needed it, and Clint was hugging his legs as he looked at the two.

It took a few minutes until Tony regained his breathing. He nodded at Bruce, murmuring a small thank you. Bruce nodded back before he sat down on the floor. He patted the space in front of him while looking at Tony, gave everyone else a pointed glance and then a look on the floor.

Steve had hang out long enough with Clint to figure out gestures. He stood up and sat on the floor near them.

“Let’s try again. What were you saying? Try to gather your thoughts first before you speak. We can wait,” Bruce gently said.

Tony closed his eyes. When he opened them again and spoke, his voice was slightly trembling. “I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, I mean I wasn’t really sure of the time and maybe it wasn’t time for breakfast yet, but I just had to go, you know? I was hungry. I’m getting off track again, sorry. Where was I?”

“The kitchen,” Jan supplied.

“Right. The kitchen. So I went there, straight to the fridge to grab an apple, closed the fridge and took a bite before I turned around and dropped the said apple. Which was a shame since we have limited resources. I would’ve picked it up and washed it, but I just panicked and went straight back here because, oh my god.”

“We’re still not getting it, Tony.” Bruce looked like he was forcing himself to be as calm as possible even though he wanted to shake it out of Tony. Steve could relate.

Tony spoke so fast, making Clint frown and tilt his head to the side questioningly. Wanda said something, maybe told him to speak slowly, but Steve wasn’t able to catch it as he froze, looking at Tony with shock.

_There were only five chairs._

Steve was already up and running towards the kitchen before he could even think about it. When he arrived, he stopped at the door to take a good look at the dining table.

“There really are only five left.” Jan went near the table and caressed it. “There really are only five left,” she breathed out.

“It was mine,” Wanda noted.

Steve heard somebody curse. He raised his brows at Bruce, who was obviously distressed. “Tch. How about the others?” he asked Tony.

“I’m not really sure, I didn’t check—”

Bruce was rushing to the Birth Room before Tony could finish his sentence. Steve immediately followed and heard the others not far behind.

Slamming the door open, Bruce marched in front of the wall where the polaroids were—five of them.

“What the hell is this?” Steve said, feeling like he was punched in the gut. Something was wrong.

“I do not understand.” If Steve didn’t see Wanda open her mouth, he would’ve thought it was just his imagination; it was too soft that he almost missed it.

Jan walked to Bruce’s right side, crossing her arms as she looked up. “Don’t we all?” she muttered. “This is not telling us that another one must go or something, right?”

“Like the survival RPG we were playing?” Tony shook both his head and hands in front of him. “No. Nope. Definitely no. “Find the One Left Standing” or something? Unlikely. That’s stupid. This isn’t a movie. Ridiculous. Disgusting. Absolutely revolting.”

“Yeah. If it was something like Battle Royale, I’m sure the instructions would be clearer. If we needed to, uh, harm each other, I think they would’ve chosen another word than find,” Steve said. When he saw that everyone was looking at him, he shrugged. “What?”

Wait. “Did the instructions in the TV change?”

Tony and Jan cursed in chorus before they ran off. Clint sighed and pointed at Steve, at Bruce, at Wanda, and then at the door. He jogged in place and rolled his eyes before he wiped the non-existent sweat on his forehead. He touched his chest and shook his head dramatically.

Bruce rolled his eyes before he started walking, Steve and Wanda following suit. There was a small smile on Clint’s face as he kept up with their pace, but at least it wasn’t a full blown run.

When they arrived at the living room, Steve breathed out a big sigh of relief that he wasn’t aware he was holding in. The screen was still the same. He walked toward it and sat next to Jan and Tony who were lying down.

“Man, your sigh was loud, but you have no idea just how louder ours were. Yeah, there were two of us versus you, but that’s not really important. I feel like all my energy was sucked out,” Tony said, not removing his gaze above.

“Obviously still not enough for you to stop talking,” Bruce said as he sat down as well. His words were harsh, but the tone wasn’t.

Clint went to lie down next to Jan, who looked at him for a second before staring above. A few moments later, they were on the floor together, just looking at the dim ceiling and silently listening to everyone’s breathing.

“Were we wrong?” It was Tony who broke the silence, speaking in soft tones that Steve hadn’t heard before. “No, let me rephrase that. Was I wrong? I was, wasn’t I?”

Tony continued, not waiting for a reply. “I was the one who pushed this. It’s all my fault. I even made Natasha—” Steve didn’t remove his gaze at the ceiling, but he could hear the choke and sniff coming from Tony.

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. At least, not solely. We all had our part in this.” There was a firmness in his own voice, trying to convince not only Tony, but himself as well.

“If anyone has to be blamed more than anyone else, it should be me. I did not make sure the ropes were tied enough.”

That time, Steve couldn’t stop himself from turning to Wanda. “You—”

“You did your best. I’m sure you did. You always do,” Jan said. “I’m sure Natasha knew that you did a good job.”

“And that is what frustrates me most,” Wanda said, her voice rising as she sat up to face where Jan was. “I knew she trusted me, she trusted that the rope would hold up. But I failed her.”

Steve bit his lip, wondering if it would be a good idea to speak before deciding that he’d better speak now or forever hold his peace. He sat up. “I understand that we are all feeling like shit here. Trust me, I do.”

“Do you, really?” Tony asked, also sitting up. The rest started to sit up as well, feeling something brewing. “You have been the nicest one here. You’ve been amazing—annoyingly amazing. You helped us out, you were the neutral ground. How can you even feel like shit?” Unlike Wanda, his tone didn’t raise at all. He sounded genuinely curious.

From the look of his eyes, Steve guessed he was.

“I can probably answer that, but I won’t.” Tony’s mouth opened to reply, but Steve beat him to it. “We can have our pity party later, but don’t you think we have more important things to talk about? Look at those _five_ bean bags.”

Bruce nodded. “Steve’s right. As Natasha would say, facts first. So, there are five things now?”

“We’re not really sure, haven’t checked the other rooms yet. But seriously, by know, we already know the drill,” Jan said. “A better question to ask now is why. Why five?”

“I can’t really think of anything. A sign of how many people should be left? A countdown? Nothing at all, just for the kicks? A robbery happening from the open ceiling?”

“And the robbers will pick kitchen chairs, beanbags, and polaroid pictures to steal. Really, Tony?” Bruce paused for a second before raising an eyebrow. “‘Really Tony’. Sounds like a TV show.”

Jan snorted.  “Yeah, where they talk about ridiculous things that is not safe for kids so it’s gonna be a late night show.”

“It would fit,” Wanda agreed. “Tony does not have conventional sleeping time.”

Clint did a thumbs up. Tony was joking on how Wanda wouldn’t be allowed to watch it anyway because it would be past kids’ bedtime when Steve felt like he had found a missing puzzle piece.

“Time,” he exhaled.

“What? Is it too much for you?” Jan asked, the same time Tony snickered and muttered, “Wow, with an expression like that, you look as stupid as you did in that picture Clint took.”

Steve didn’t reply. He looked at the digital clock in the room, and then back at Wanda who seemed to be surprise at the sudden attention.

“What time is it?” he asked.

Wanda frowned. “You just checked the clock.”

“Just answer me,” Steve hurriedly said. “Don’t look at the clock, just think of your body.”

“I didn’t know you were like that, Steve!” Tony quipped. Steve shushed him and turned back his attention to Wanda. “Are you hungry? Is it time for breakfast, lunch?”

Wanda was still looking at him like he just spoiled a book ending, but he could see the moment when it clicked. She immediately answered, “I actually am.”

And they both looked at the clock again. Steve tsked. “Damn.”

“Uh, excuse me? Care to share with the rest of the tenants?” Tony asked.

Steve turned around to face them. “The clock isn’t working. Or, to be more precise, it _is_ working. But not the way it is supposed to be.”

“Can you maybe try to make it more, uh, English?” Jan asked.

It was Wanda who nodded and answered her. “It is supposed to be either near 6:30, 12:00, or 18:00. It is showing us 21:11:54.”

“Which means?” Jan repeated.

“It means that the clock isn’t there to tell us the time—it’s there to tell us how many time do we have _left_. It’s a countdown,” Steve said.

“How come we didn’t notice this before?” Bruce asked.

“We never really looked at the clock lately. I remember going back to my room and checking the ones there a few days prior, but it was correct.”

“Which. Means.” Jan thinned and tapped the floor in annoyance.

“Holy hell. If that’s not hours-minutes-seconds anymore, but rather, days-hours-minutes, then holy hell. It was a countdown.” Tony massaged his temples. “We were wrong. We were so wrong.”

Clint held out his left hand and brushed his right index finger over the palm. Bruce nodded at him. “We have three weeks left. Twenty-one days.”

“Their countdown sure is unconventional,” Jan muttered. “But what should we do now? We have an actual time limit. What will happen if we don’t find this one on time?” She jabbed a finger to the television.

Steve sighed. “At least we figured out one thing. This one is…” He trailed off, squinted, and then crawled near the television.

“Noticed something again, hot shot?” Tony asked.

“I’m not sure, but…” he looked back and gestured Clint to come near. Steve pointed to the letter O in “one” on the screen. “You notice anything significant?”

Clint frowned before he went closer to the screen, examining it. He sighed and leaned back, looked at Steve and shook his head a little. Steve patted the corners of the television and found a button on the lower part that could change the screen’s contrast.

“How about now?”

Clint looked back at the screen before he whipped his head back to Steve, who nodded at him encouragingly. Clint brought up the camera he was holding and stared at it with confused but hopeful eyes.

“Hello? Guys? English? Make it easier for stupid person like me?” Jan asked.

Steve grinned at her. “Just look at it. Look at it really carefully. Doesn’t that little ‘o’ there reminds you of something?”

Jan moved to crouch in front of the television and looked at it. “I don’t know, a camera lens?” she said nonchalantly before she blinked. “Oh.” She grinned back at him. _“Oh.”_

“Should I start removing Clint’s camera piece by piece?” Tony asked.

Jan roller her eyes. “You better ask nicely or Clint’s going to get real mad at you again.”

“Yeah, I made a terrible first impression, didn’t I?”

Clint crossed his arms and glared at Tony before rolling his eyes playfully. He removed the camera from his neck and gave it to him. Clint made fast gestures with his hands, but Tony simply placed a finger in front of his lips and winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I can still return it back to normal. It’s the one thing I’m sure at good at.” With a sly grin at Steve, he added, “Something where I’m better than Steve.”

“You definitely are,” Steve said, hoping he sounded genuine. Because it was really true; he didn’t understand whatever Tony was doing every now and then, but he knew it was something extraordinary.

The atmosphere changed, and the almost physical burden on their shoulders lightened up. Steve trusted his instinct; he didn’t have a bad feeling about their next course of action.

Tony held out the camera to Steve which he hesitantly grabbed, confused. Tony grinned. “Thanks, but don't sell yourself short. You can definitely be my assistant. Let me just grab my things from our room. Be right back.”

A beat later and Wanda also stood up. “I will get some food. I am hungry.”

Steve felt a sense of déjà vu and it wasn’t the good kind, so he immediately stood up as well. “I’ll help you out.” Wanda tipped her head in acknowledgement before they headed out.

Nothing interesting happened while they were preparing the food, much to Steve's relief. It was quiet, but Steve would sometimes hear Wanda hum a song before she seem to catch herself and stop. Steve hid a smile of his own.

Before they went out the hallway, Steve caught Wanda's quick look at the table.

“Missing your chair?” Steve asked, trying to fill the silence as they walk. He wasn't expecting an answer, but he got one anyway.

“Not exactly the way I would describe it. Perhaps I would have, had we been doing our usual routine of eating together before it disappeared suddenly, but because of… circumstances, I had the time to not get used to it.” Wanda cupped her chin, never pausing her pace. “It would be more accurate to say that I was just wondering how I had thought of that chair as mine when it was not. I am more aware of that now as it was taken away from us so easily.”

“That’s probably the longest sentence I’ve ever heard from you.”

“I am not quite sure what you mean?”

Steve chuckled. “No, never mind.”

When they arrived in the living room, Tony was already seated with all his tools laid out in front of him. “My assistant! You’re finally here! Come on, let’s get this started.”

Steve had put the tray down and started to walk toward Tony when Bruce grabbed his wrist. He shook his head and looked at Tony. “Eat first and work later.  No skipping meals. I know how you can be when working..”

“Stop nagging, dad,” Tony whined, but he stood up and sat down next to Steve. After finishing the French toast and mango juice in record time, Tony childishly opened his mouth to Bruce. “All done now, pa. Can I get to work?”

Bruce sighed and Tony took it as a yes. “Come join me when you’re done savoring your food,” he said to Steve before he went back to his tools.

Steve finished his food faster. He was more excited in working on the camera than he was hungry. When he put down his glass, he looked up and saw Clint looking at him. Steve gave him a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, Tony’s good at what he does. And I’ll make sure that you can still use it perfectly after.” Even though there wasn’t any film left.

He went to sit across Tony. The moment his bottom touched the floor, Tony spouted orders on what to do.

Steve wouldn’t pretend that he understood what they were doing, because he honestly didn’t. He was just glad that at least he knew which tools are which so he wouldn’t look too stupid next to Tony, an undeniable genius. He was still as chatty as ever, but Steve could see his nimble fingers, how careful he was in what he did; sometimes, he would cut himself off in the middle of a rambling to focus on a particularly delicate screw. Or Steve assumed it was, but really, he has no damn idea what was happening.

Except that it was breaking the camera open and that it was causing Clint to roll on the floor anxiously a few feet away from them.

There was a loud click, and Tony slowly opened the camera to reveal its core.

Everyone—who Steve didn’t notice were also watching them—gasped. Clint noticed their reactions and he scrambled to his feet, but Tony immediately opened his mouth before Clint could even, well, not speak, but start doing gestures.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! Your camera’s still perfectly fine. I mean, it’s in pieces right now so it doesn’t look like it, but trust me. It was easy to remove so I can return it back. The reason for that gasp in chorus is not because it’s broken, but because of this.”

It was key. A really small one, but it’s a goddamned key.

“That had been in your camera the entire time?!” Jan asked, and Clint’s hand was already raised halfway when she continued, “That’s a rhetorical question, don’t answer.”

“A key,” Steve breathed out.

“But what does it open?” Bruce asked.

“Uh, the way out? Duh?” Tony said, attempting to look indifferent, but the grin in his face told another story.

“It can be anything; a door, a box, maybe even a cabinet, but where is it? We did not see any rooms or cabinets that are locked, did we?”

“Should we start looking then?”

“We still have three weeks. Plenty of time.”

“Uh, yeah, no. Can we do it, like, today? Within the three days? Within the week?” Tony asked, his wild grin became a sheepish one. “Maybe we’ll be able to find Natasha, too. And the earlier, the better.”

Steve still clung on that tiny hope that Natasha was still somewhere. And if he could save her from the dark abyss, then he will.

“The ropes are done,” Wanda said casually, as if she was just talking about the weather.

Huh, weather. Another thing that Steve didn’t really thought of until then.

Tony nodded. “Okay, ropes are done. You guys in or what? I could understand if you two”—he pointed at Steve and Clint—“don’t want to. I totally get it. But it would be really great if you guys could help out? I mean, no offense to Bruce, but he doesn’t really look tough.”

“None taken,” Bruce replied, sarcastic. Tony didn’t hear him, or pretended not to, and faced Steve. “So? Assistant? I’ll definitely feel safer with you on the ropes.”

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You do know that you’re putting a lot on me? Faith, pressure, trust. Responsibilities.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, but you’re our best guy here. Didn’t I already tell you that?”

“Compliments won’t get you anywhere,” Steve said, but he stood up and offered his hand to Tony. Their mechanic let out a loud ‘yeah!’ before he clasped Steve’s hand, and Steve pulled him up to his feet. Clint also stood up and crossed his arms. With pointed gestures, he said: _Need. You. Safe. Fix. Camera. Later._

Tony laughed and went near Clint, dragging Steve along. He wrapped his arms around Steve and Clint’s shoulders. “Dream Team’s complete!” He laughed and raised an eyebrow at Jan. “You look like you wanna say something. Gonna stop us? We already have four big fat yeses. I don’t know about Bruce, but either way, it’s majority now.”

She just shook her head and sighed. “Do what you want, boys. What’s the plan?”

“The plan is—” Tony stopped. He looked at Steve. “Your call, buddy.”

“You’re really putting a lot on me.”

“Because I know you can handle it.”

Steve sighed and looked at Bruce. “Well?”

Bruce just smirked at him. “Don’t pass it on me.”

“But you are the second decision maker!” Steve moaned.

Wanda hummed in agreement. “That is true. Natasha is the first.”

Steve sighed again for the umpteenth time that day. “We don’t know what the key opens, but we still have something that we haven’t explored yet. The bump. Maybe we should measure the distance from the hole until the edge, and then the distance from the edge to the wall?”

“Bright idea. And I insist that I do the wonderful honor of looking for that bump.”

“Nobody else is really volunteering, Tony.”

“That’s wrong, Jan. I’m pretty sure our captain—o captain, my captain!—here is dying to volunteer. Oh, god, bad joke. That sounded terrible. Forget that. Anyway, I need you on the ropes, okay? You too.” He looked at Steve and then at Clint.

The determination in Tony's voice made Steve believe that it would all work out in the end, even if he could feel the hand on his shoulder trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was this chapter? Did it make sense? Was anything confusing? Are y'all feeling hopeful yet? Just how many times will I use em dashes? 
> 
> Anyway! We're down to the last two chapters! Both of them are short, maybe around 2k+ words each, so it should be pretty easy to have them both up within two weeks. Hopefully. I feel like I've said something similar before but it took me months... _*squints*_


	10. Chapter 10

Steve was back in the pitch black rooftop, and were they truly doing the right thing? Maybe he should go back down. Maybe they need to think it all through again, even if it would be for the hundredth time.

But Tony was already climbing up the hole and Steve had no choice but to help Clint in hoisting him up, before grabbing the makeshift ruler that Jan was holding out to them.

“Holy hell,” Tony said. “You can’t really see anything here. Literally. This is creepy as much as it’s amazing.”

“Clint and I will lead the way.”

“How the hell did you guys even know that it was an edge—oh right, there was a light coming below or something. But how about now? How would we know if we’re even stepping on anything anymore?”

“That’s why we do this.” Steve demonstrated the patting-the-floor-in-front-with-a-foot and chuckled, attempting to present in a comedic manner, but Tony wasn’t listening. Instead, he was grabbing the end of the rope from Clint and circled around him thrice before he returned it to him. After that, Tony grabbed Steve’s shoulder and made him stand next to Clint, went back to Clint, grabbed his shoulders, and made him circle Steve, too. And  _ then _ he stood next to Steve, tied the rope around his waist twice, and nodded to himself.

What?

“Okay, not exactly my brightest idea and all, but hey. This will at least give us a little more time and something to hold on to in case someone accidentally goes over the edge.” Leaning over the hole, he shouted, “Make sure you three aren’t slacking in case we all accidentally go over the edge simultaneously, okay!”

“What the fuck—” 

Tony ignored Jan, standing straight and looking at them. “Lead the way!”

They moved slowly, with Clint carrying the ruler and walking slightly forward. Steve would’ve preferred to be the one in front, but he was unsure of the direction. It  _ was _ Clint who first found it; he just had to trust him. Steve gripped the rope connecting them together tightly.

Clint stopped and held out a hand. Steve barely saw the motion, the light from their hole not much helping them, and he stopped. He forgot that Tony couldn’t see it—if he was even looking at them at all, still rambling about the darkness.

Tony was already walking in front of Clint when Steve managed to fist his shirt and pull him back.

“Wha—hey!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tipped his head forward before he remembered that it couldn’t be seen in the dark. “It’s the edge,” he said instead.

“Seriously?” Tony did the foot in front of the other, but when it looked like it was still the floor, he frowned, moved forward, and did it again. “This is still the floor, what are you guys—” 

Steve swore his heart stopped beating for a second, but when the rope was only slightly tugged and he could still see Tony’s outline, he realized that Tony had just found the edge.

“…saying,” Tony finished, slightly out of breath. “That wasn’t the floor. Wow. This is really, really terrifying.”

“I can go down,” Steve said, but Tony was already saying “nuh uh uh” and shaking his head. “Nope. Can do this.”

They removed the ties around them, and Clint once again did a ridiculous, even more than before, harness around Tony. When he was finished, Tony laughed. “Totally overdid it, but not complaining. Here I go?”

“Okay. Repeating the plan first,” Steve said. “We lower you down slowly and you try to find the bump. We have a general idea on where it was last time, so if we think it’s too deep, we’ll tug the rope twice and then pull you up again. And if you find the bump?”

“Shout my lungs out and wait for you guys to lower the ruler, you guys say it’s a ruler but was just our pathetic attempt at taping utensils together, but anyway, put the end in front of the bump, and when I’m done, tug it twice.”

“Yep.”

“I still don’t understand why we can’t just mark the rope or something.”

“Because all markers are missing, and you are insisting that we do this as fast we can?”

“Right, my bad,” Tony drawled. “Well, okay, here I go. For real. Holy shit this is really something else.”

It was hard to lower him down; aside from Tony being heavier than Natasha, they did it extra slowly this time. Tony was rambling but Steve barely understood it, focusing on making sure he was holding the rope as tight as he could.

He snapped out of his concentration when he heard Tony shout profanities and other words that Steve couldn't make out. He stopped and kicked Clint lightly, who then slowly picked up and dropped the makeshift ruler with his one hand, still holding on the rope on another. Clint was definitely having a hard time, but damn, the strain on his arms… Why the hell hadn’t they let Bruce join them again?

The rope slipped a little and Steve's breath hitched as he grabbed it tighter. Right. It was because there should be someone with the girls in case anything suddenly happen below. Just focus on your job, Steve.

Clint looked back at him and nodded. Steve nodded back and braced himself when Clint removed the other hand still holding on the rope to pull up the ruler. Steve’s arms and legs were shaking, and he really needed Clint to hurry up because his grip was loosening and—

Clint was back in the ropes again. Steve breathed out a sigh of relief, and with quick nod again to each other, they hauled Tony up.

“Wow, that was a once in a lifetime experience. And by that, I mean I’m never doing that ever again. Ever,” Tony mumbled as he removed the ropes around him.

Steve patted him on the shoulder. “Good job.”

“No, good job to  _ you _ guys. I know it must be terrible, my weight and all that. But did your hands slip or was that just my imagination? I think my lifespan just got shortened.”

Steve winced. “Ah, sorry. That was on me.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Seriously.” 

They slowly walked their way back, folding the rope on the floor as they go. Steve was the last one to jump down.

“You guys okay? You felt that bump, Tony?” Jan asked.

“Yeah, it was hard to miss. Big bump. Like a hump. You know, those little mountains on the roads?”

“Little mountains,” Steve repeated, amused.

“Yep.”

The corner of Bruce’s lips tugged upwards, but he took a quick look at the rope and his face went back to a more serious expression. “We have what we need. Let’s start.”

From the direction and with the help of the map, they figured out that the bump was somewhere outside the glass room. They held the ruler against the wall, got the general idea of its location, and started carefully looking horizontally.

“Oh,” Wanda said.

“What is it? Did you find a keyhole? Something small, something not obvious?” Tony asked. Everybody stopped. She pointed at something on the portion of the wall in front of her.

“There seems to be a button over there.”

“Uh, where? My eyes are bad now from all the video games,” Jan muttered.

Steve didn’t comment, but instead decided to lower himself down to Wanda’s level.

“Are you actually being rude—”

Steve paid Bruce no mind, and instead said, “There  _ is _ a button.”

Tony followed suit and kneeled next to him. “Wow. Well, that explains why we couldn’t really see it immediately. Thank god for a small person in the group.” That earned him a stomp in the foot from Wanda.

“What could that button be for?” she asked.

Tony grinned, and Steve knew _ exactly _ just what that grin was. Tony Would Be Doing Something Stupid Again.

Their resident mechanic casually stood up and placed a hand in front of the button. “One way to find out.”

“Tony, don’t you da—” Steve was enveloped in freezing water and he gasped, cutting himself off to wrap his arms around himself. He didn’t miss the weather anymore; not when it was raining inside the room and he was soaking wet. He groaned and looked at his shirt that was now sticking to his scrawny body.

Nobody was complaining, strangely enough. He looked up and that was when he noticed they were all looking at the multi-colored glass.

Except it wasn’t a glass anymore. It was—

Steve took off running, dripping wet and almost slipping but he couldn’t care less. He just ran as fast he could, and when he reached his destination, he slammed the door open.

The Birth Room.

He took a deep breath and rushed toward the bed, holding one of the posts and trying to pull it but it didn’t bulge. Tony was suddenly on the post next to him, also helping him pull, but still to no avail.

Bruce was on the other post, holding it but not doing anything. “Can you tell us what’s going on in that head of yours? You suddenly took off running and now you want to move the bed for some reasons?”

“The glass!” Steve exclaimed.

They exchanged glances and shrugged before helping him out. When they managed to move the bed to the corner of the room, Steve went back to pull the carpet. How could a carpet be this heavy? Thankfully, the others helped him out again.

Steve tripped and hit his knee but he didn’t mind, immediately going to the middle once the carpet was out of the way. He probably looked like a maniac as he kept on knocking random places with a big grin on his face, but it was here.

“What is here?” Bruce asked.

Steve looked at him with a frown, still knocking on the floor. Did he say that out loud?

Jan punched his arm lightly. “Yes, you’re saying it out loud. Geez, are you drunk? That cold water from earlier wasn’t alcohol, right? Your head-to-mouth filter is practically gone.”

“So? What is here?” Tony said, sitting down next to him.

And then he found it. A part of the floor that was quite soft.

Steve’s knuckles were bleeding and it hurt like hell. 

Wanda was quick to tear a piece of her shirt and cover his hands. Maybe Steve should’ve told them to grab something hard instead of punching it down, but he was too excited, and even more now that he saw what was beneath the floor.

It was a door. With a keyhole. A small keyhole.

“Holy hell,” Tony muttered. That snapped them out of the trance they were in when Steve’s knuckles hit the floor. Bruce stood up. "No punching the floor, no matter if it's fake wood or something, please. Wait here. I’ll get something.”

Sheepish, Steve turned to Wanda who just finished wrapping up and was sitting on her knees. “Thanks.”

“That was stupid. What is the point of hurting your own hand?”

“Sorry. Got too excited.”

“I know.” She gave a small smile. “I think I am, too.”

He turned back his attention to the door. They sat around the area, quiet and contemplating until Bruce came back with a rice cooker in hand. When the rest of the confirmed fake wood was cleared, the black door was fully  revealed.

“This is it. We’re going out. This is the door,” Jan said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Who would think that the place where it all started is also the place where it will all end?”

“Where it will all end, huh,” Bruce mused.

“How did you even figure this out?” Wanda asked Steve. Tony raised an eyebrow and replied, “The glass?”

“Yeah, right, the glass. Sorry if we couldn’t catch up with you, smart boys,” Jan muttered.

Tony shuffled his feet. “It’s gonna suck if it turns out to be just some random door though. Where’s the key? It’s not suddenly missing right? That will suck even more.”

Clint removed the necklace he had that Steve just noticed he was wearing; the key that was tied at the end. Tony exclaimed an “ah!” when he saw it, and when he got Clint’s attention, he did the hand gesture for sorry. “I still haven’t fixed your camera. Uh, I can fix it now before we go?”

Clint shook his head. He pointed at the door below and shrugged.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. What’s a camera if we’re about to go out, right?” he grinned and grabbed the key from him. He put it in his palm and held it out to Steve.

“Please get us out of here.”

Steve wanted to ask _why me again_ , but he knew that it wouldn’t lead anywhere so he sighed and accepted the key. He inhaled and the world turned slowly. His heart started beating faster the closer his hand was on the keyhole.

And then he pushed it inside.

It was a perfect fit.

He let out a breathe he wasn’t aware he was holding, and vaguely noticed that everyone did so, too. He turned the key counter-clockwise, and when he heard the undeniable ‘click’, he couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh.

Steve gestured to the door. “Anyone would love to do the honor? Help me out?”

Wanda rolled her eyes and reached out to open the door.

Steve didn’t have any expectations, but the blinding glow from below wasn’t something he anticipated. They all flinched at the sudden light that seemed to brighten up the dim room.

“Okay. So, blue glow. That supposed to be our exit?” Tony asked.

Steve stood up and closed his eyes, breathed in and out until he felt all his nerves relax, his heartbeat going steady. It may had been a few seconds or minutes, but when he opened his eyes, he was calm.

Everyone was looking at him with varying degrees of confusion, and Steve gave them a reassuring smile. “It’s time to fly.”

He jumped. The blue glow engulfed him slowly until he couldn’t see or feel any part of his body. Strangely, it didn’t felt intruding.

It felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're soooo close to the end of the year (and also FINALLY the end of this story)! Aaaaaaaa. Hope you had/have wonderful holidays!


	11. Chapter 11

Steve opened his eyes. At first he thought he was in the Relax Room, waking up from a dream that he couldn’t remember but knew was good until he noticed the lights. Fluorescent lamps. They didn’t have those in the House. The air was different, too. He couldn’t explain what it smelt like, but it was strong, chemical, something that Steve could even taste in his mouth.

And then, he remembered. The glass, the key, the door. The blue glow.

He sat up, half expecting a pain to shoot through his body, but there wasn’t any. In fact, he felt refreshed. Like he slept for an entire week. It was worrying to think that it was exactly what happened, but where was he?

He looked around. The place was spacious, with multiple beds lined up on his side as well as on the other side. There was an area large enough for multiple people to mill around… which they did.

People. There were other _people_.

Where were the others?

He opened his mouth to call for anyone’s attention, but ended up wracked by an intense coughing fit. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth, bending forward subconsciously.

“Hey, you’re up. Here’s a glass of water for your throat. It’s pretty dry, huh?” he heard somebody say, but Steve was still busy trying to not cough his lungs out so he ignored it for the meantime. Priorities first. It was probably just one of the people who found and rescued them, or something. Although they pretty much did the rescuing themselves. (Rescuing themselves from who?)

When his body calmed down, he sat up straight to accept the glass, but the ‘thank you’ he was about to say was stuck in his throat. The guy before him was wearing a black and purple hoodie, blond hair slicked back, and bizarrely with a quiver on his back, but he knew him all the same.

“Clint?”

Clint walked in front of him and handed him the glass of water, which he received on autopilot. “Drink up or it’s gonna be a pain in the ass to talk. You’re lucky I got here first and not Fury.”

Fury? “How—” he started, but his throat hurt and at Clint’s raised eyebrows, he drank the water in quick gulps. When the glass was empty, he placed it on the table beside him and looked at Clint.

“How are you talking? And can you hear me?”

“Huh? Of course I can—oh. You meant the virtual me. What?” Clint crossed his arms. “You were the one who told me to disable my speakers because you said, and I quote, ‘You will just end up spilling the entire thing the moment you open your mouth’ wasn’t it?”

“What?”

The different expressions Clint had in the span of a second, from annoyed to confused to downright terrified, would’ve amused Steve if it was under different circumstances. Clint sat on the bed next to him. “Oh, shit. How are your memories? What do you remember?”

“Is this a trick question? You know I don’t have mine. And so do you.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay. Maybe something happened during the memory transfer. There was a bug where you almost got pushed back here. Maybe it had something to do with it. Note to self: Tell Tony later.”

“I don’t understand. What is happening? Where are we? How about House Rainbow?”

“House Rainbow was _your_ child. Your idea of virtual reality and all that jazz, to help us with trainings or something. Tony just made your dreams come true, though we were just on the testing stage.”

“Virtual... reality? Wait, where are the others?”

“Nat’s been here for quite a while, some of them have already woken up, but I think Jan and Wanda are still asleep. There’s still a small lag when it comes to females. That’s what Tony’s working on right now, I think.”

“Natasha? She’s here?”

“Of course. We just disconnected her earlier since she almost reached the back door. That one really took the life out of me. I thought we were about to get busted when we’re not yet finished with the simulation.”

“I think I now understand what Jan feels when we were all talking about something and she kept on telling us to speak English.”

“There were some bugs to the home language code, still need to fix that later, too.” Clint sighed and lied down. “And here I thought I could get away from all these by passing you all the work, but of course, you just have to be affected by a bug yourself.”

“Can you give me a rundown again? Make it as dumb as possible?” Steve asked with a groan and a hand clutching his head.

Clint chucked. “Okay. So, we were developing a virtual reality where everything we need is there, which we can use for some team practices or something. Tony wanted to check for errors and bugs, so we made different scenarios? I got to choose for our second run, and I wanted to try puzzles and mysteries and all that shit. You gave me this idea of being trapped and trying to find a way out through clues. Operation: House Rainbow was born. Wow, I sound like a spy agent. Wait, I _am_ a spy agent.”

“What about everybody’s urges?”

A snort. “There were no ‘urges’ in the first place. They just heightened specific memories while they were storing it away; some of them were important and big memories, while some were just plain stupid. I think they just heightened all the previous memories of Natasha jumping off the helicopter? I mean, urges, really? Me taking pictures of ears?” Clint snorted again. “Ridiculous. And creepy. Though I kinda wanted to try being the creepy guy for once.”

“Why do you have your memories while I don’t?” Why was Steve believing this?

“Because you’re Cap?” He shrugged. “Like, you’re the key, metaphorically, while I hold the key, literally. You didn’t figure that the one was me, did ya?”

Steve did; he realized it was him when he saw his notepad, but he had thought there must be a reason behind it. He also mentally added ‘cap’ to his mental list of things to ask later, next to ‘fury’. “I get it now, why you kept on deliberately saying that the “one” was a person and a “traitor”.”

“Jan’s idea. Said I should plant hints now and then so you guys could pick it up. Oh, by the way.” He digged something from the pocket of his hoodie and showed it to him. A picture of a pink bed with a letter x underneath it.

A picture of what was painted in the glass room.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“You were wondering why everyone was confused when you went to the birth room immediately after the glass cleared up, right?”

Steve nodded. “I thought it was obvious.”

“That was what you saw, but the rest of us only saw this.” He flipped the picture to reveal a splash of colors that reminded Steve of the hallways, when there were still colors in the House. “Except Tony, I think. Probably coded it so he could also see it, judging by how he didn’t hesitate to follow,” Clint said wit a shrug.

“Anyway, our pet project still has flaws, but we can work on it. I better go talk with Coulson now and figure something out. You can ask people around here for directions. Just don’t be shocked if they are shocked you are talking to them.” Clint grinned at him and started to walk away. “You should go ahead and roam around, might jog up your memory. If Tones and Bruce are awake, they’re probably in the lobby or debriefing room. Or in the lab. Likely in the lab.”

“Wait, Clint.”

Clint turned around. “Yeah?”

“Is Steve really my name?”

Clint laughed and gave him a wink—it was all so familiar. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap?”

Steve watched him walk away. He might’ve went along with Clint, but he didn't want to trust everything he said entirely. It sounded ridiculous… yet it _felt_ right.

There was one way to find out.

Or two. He could wait until the memory bug was fixed or something, but he didn’t feel comfortable with it. He’d prefer to talk with the others first. Natasha was here. The others were here.

Steve stood up, looking down first if he’s wearing anything decent. A blue shirt with a red star print and denim pants. Okay, good.

Time to look for the others. Maybe he should go find the lab first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> First of all, if you are still reading until this part, thank you so much for sticking with this mess until the end! This had been very experimental, really long, and really, really messy, but still. I _finally_ got a project done. I now believe that I can do multi-chapters! Or can I? OTL
> 
> You may have noticed that this last chapter seemed very rush, and I'm also really sorry for that. My feelings on wanting to get this over with was projected. I don't really want to explain everything, though! But hehe, how was that reveal? ;)
> 
> 'Tags May Change' was there for a reason; Alternate Universe and Developing Friendship was removed, replaced with the Avengers Academy (Video Game) fandom tag. If you have any questions or if anything's unclear (which is like, 90% of the fic, I guess), you can leave comments and I'll try to answer them? Ahaha... if anyone's interested enough...
> 
> But yeah! Thank you for reading, and see you around! Hope you all have a better and kinder 2019! <3


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